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S E A-W E E D 

.AND 

WHAT WE SEED. 

My Vacation 

AT 

LONG BRANCH AND SARATOGA. 

BY 

•'JOHlSr I^AUL" 

(Chakles H.'Webb), 

AUTHOR OF 

"-Liffith Lank;' ''St. TwePmo,'' "^ Wicked Woman,'' 
etc.y etc. 







MSi 








NEW YORK: 




G. 


W. 


Carleton ^ Co. 


, Publishers, 






LONDON: LOW & 


CO. 






MDCCCLXXVI. 








T 








PREFACE. 



That which we now entitle " Preface of a Book" was 
once known as the " Argument " — perhaps because it 
was held that a good deal of argument is necessary 
to prove that one has any right to put a book upon 
the pubUc. That point I will not now argue, as the 
burden rests on my pubhshers. But perhaps I had 
better explain that the loose-letters, here bound and 
sheaved, appeared in the New York Tribu7te dur- 
ing the summer just past, under the title head of 
"John Paul's Vacation." Why so labelled, I do 
not know, for certainly the writing of them is the 
only work I have done during the year. Possibly 
" Vacation " was a misprint for " Vocation." Indeed 
it seems my fate to drift round among the watering 
places every summer, writing letters which, in the 
regular course of nature, find their way into Tribimt 
supplements, within a month or two of being written. 
As before remarked, last summer's work you have 
here. For all the work and wisdom that went before 
you must goto "John Paul's Book," a big volume, 
published by a large Hartford firm at an astonish- 
ingly small price. 

Copyright, 1876, by 
G. W. CARLETON & CO., New York. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

My Vacation. Arrival at Long Branch — Comparative at- 
tractions of Long Branch and the Pit called Bottomless- 
How long a Tanner may last you — Sailing up the Bay 
—The Hotel Clerk of the Period 7 

Life at Long Branch, Bathin-g unfashionable at the 
West End— Water as a Motor— Looking at the Sea and 
talking of the unattainable— The Bluff— An Egyptian 
Game 16 

Moral Reflections Apropos of Long Branch. 
How it is hot— The Girl of the Dishevelled Sort— Crabs 
and Cottages — Possibility of being Virtuous and yet hav- 
ing Cakes and Ale— Social Surgeons— A Plan for mixing 
Society .......... 27 

Fish-Hawks and Finance at Long Branch. The 
Fish-Ha-wk and the Hackmen of the Air— The Young Wo- 
man who sits on the Shore— Two Capitalists on Inflation 
— Let into the secret of Hotel Management at the Branch 2>7 

After the Regatta. Social changes wrought by the 
Oarsmen — A Man in his cups — Silver cups and china 
bowls — Steering Down the Dining-Room Course — 
Thompson 6« 

Bankers in Convention. Capitalists either Poor or 
Mean — How a proposition to pass round a hat broke 
up the Convention— The Dignity of Fishing — A Chil- 
dren's Hop 7^ 



6 Contents. 

PAGE. 

In Race Week. The Races — Luck — The Crowd — New 
phase of the Slave Trade — Thompson's Seasons ended — 
An Exchxsive Set — Belles, Bankers and Lions — Jonathan 
Edwards 8i 

Finance Explained to Financiers. The Principle of 
Reaction illustra-ted — Stock Operations by the Rule of 
Three — The Failure of a Large Banking House — Finan- 
cial Aeronautics — Commodore Vanderbilt and Central — A 
successful opiate 96 

The Spell of Lake Saratoga, An Excursion with 
Governors and Orthography thrown in — Kayaderosseras 
— A Lady at the Scales — Finance no 

The Selfish Saratogian. What Constitutes a Bore — 
The man who wants to sling his Sciatica at you when you 
want to talk about your Rheumatism — At Cross Purpose 
with a Young Lady 124 

Minor Manners and Morals. Celestal Phenomena ; 
Rings in Heaven — Quidding and Quoting — Contraction 
under Difficulties— Fashions in wear of Woman's Hair 
— A Plea for the Waiter and Chambermaid . . .130 

My' Son, Jonathan Edwards explained — Disappointment 
of Mrs. Paul on finding that the Girl was a Boy — Confu- 
sion of names — A Baby's fondness for exercise and lack 
of moral sense — My Son as a Humorist — His teeth and 
his troubles ...,...,. 143 

The Career of a Californian. From Poverty to 
Power — Ambition and its Lessons — Sumptuous Living 
and Marvellous Hospitality — The Bank that after all 
was but an Individual — Enormous aspirations and a 
Terrible Fall 160 

The Confessions of a Reformed Planchettist . 172 

Vacation Verses. Autumn Leaves — The Fisher's 
Daughter — Sea and Shore — Das Meer Maedchen . .215 



MY VACATION. 




ARRIVAL AT LONG BRANCH— COMPARATIVE ATTRAC- 
TIONS OF LONG BRANCH AND THE PIT CALLED 

BOTTOMLESS HOW LONG A TANNER MAY LAST 

YOU SAILING UP THE BAY THE HOTEL CLERK 

OF THE PERIOD. 

REQUENTLY I have asked of myself 
(as well as of other personal friends) 

'-^-— ' what makes Long Branch so favorite a 

watering-place. Ease of access, all reply. Now 
I do not see that this explains it at all. The 
Pit-called Bottomless is proverbially easy of 
access, but it has never come into much favor 
as a good watering-place. On the contrary, 
does it not stand glaringly and nakedly forth 
as perhaps the worst watering-place to be 
found in the world or out of it — if we except, 
possibly, Coney Island ? In both places it 
is said that you find scant vegetation and a 
plentiful lack of shade, and is not this peculiarity 



8 My Vacation. 

common to Long Branch as well ? But do not 
for a moment imagine that I am desirous of 
drawing a parallel between Long Branch and 
either of the popular resorts above referred to. 
Shades of similarity exist, of course, but I can 
point you to some very wide differences when it 
comes to narrowing the thing down fine. For 
instance, President Grant is here and he isn't 
there — I am sorry to say. Sorry to say, I say, 
because the facilities for smoking on the sandy 
reaches of Coney Island far exceed any which 
this world — elsewhere — can offer. Again, they 
charge more here and do not really give one 
much better accommodations for the money. 
Where it is so hot that greenbacks would burn, 
a hotel proprietor is less intent on getting your 
last dollar, I fancy. 

By the way, did I say President Grant was 
here ? If I did, I lied ! He's at Cape May. 
And may it not be that to that may he has 
gone to indicate that under certain circum- 
stances he might — ? Who knows ? But may he 
not find doubling that cape a very different 
sort of thing from trebling a term t 



My Vacation. 9 

Now all of that preceding paragraph is ill* 
natured, nor am I sure that it is wise. The 
President has never said or done anything to 
offend me — in fact, looking hastily back over 
his career in the chair, I am unable to call to 
mind that he has ever said or done much of any- 
thing at all. As for this third-term business, 
does not the " divine Williams," as the French 
name him, assure us positively that " a tanner 
will last you nine year ? " Surely then one has 
to stretch the skin of his imagination but very 
little to let him last you twelve. So far as per- 
sonal concern enters into the matter, I had as 
lief as not see the Presidential pantaloons glued 
to the Presidential chair were it not for the 
serious impediment this would be to rising in 
the world. And insomuch as men may rise on 
the stepping-stones of their dead shelves to 
higher things, might he not aspire very properly 
to the Vatican ? Sartoris Resartus. I have 
spoken. And I am not averse to a foreign 
consulate, a post-office appointment, a clerk-ship 
in a drug-store, or the Treasury Department, or 
any other honorable and lucrative office that 



I c My Vacation. 

may be lying round loose within the governmental 
gift. 

But somehow it seems I have branched away 
from the subject ; to return now to the Branch, 

One of the most delightful things about Long 
Branch is the getting to it — the most delightful, 
I should say, if we exceiot the getting away from 
it. The sail down the bay is " just lovely," as a 
young lady remarked on the boat last evening. 
The "lovely," however, admits of qualification. 
It is not Just lovely unless you have a lovely day 
for it, and lovely companions, and take a boat 
earlier than the 3 o'clock one of Saturday after- 
noons, for that invariably comes laden with all 
sorts of humanity (to say nothing of Wall-st. 
brokers), rolling gunnels under with its freight 
of capitalists, bummers, and gentlemen with 
hooked noses wearing glittering rings on dirty 
fingers, who confirm by loud appeals to the God 
of Israel their most trivial assertions, smoking 
domestic cigars furiously the while. 

Think not that I dislike the Jew. For the Jew, 
pure and simple, I have a reverence and respect 
that go not forth similarly to embrace any other 



My Vacation. 1 1 

people on earth ; but for the greasy creature 
with tawdry jewelry strung over execrable linen, 
and a deeper edge of black round his finger-nails 
than that which borders a widow's cards in her 
first mourning — for this inexpressible spectre 
which no adjective can adequately describe, no 
adverb properly qualify, and no process short of 
cremation decently purify — for this nauseating 
wretch who is neither Jew nor gentile-man, I have 
only horror and disgust. 

Now let them surround me on my next trip 
down the bay, poisoning the air with the fumes 
of their vile weeds, and shouting their infamous 
transactions in gold and stocks to each other 
across my unwilling ears, and they'll be revenged 
enough. For I'll jump overboard if I can't " get 
shut " of them any other way. 

Soft blow the spicy breezes, 
From Blackwell's blessed isle ; 

Where every woman wheezes 
And only man is vile. 

(It is not Blackwell's Island, but Governor's, 
that we pass in sailing down the bay, but Gov- 
ernor's filled out the rhythm of the line a little 



12 My Vacation. 

too well, and the class which people Blackwell's 
are really our governors after all.) 

If I owned a steam yacht I think I'd spend 
the Summer months cruising between the city 
and Sandy Hook. Given good weather, good 
company, a store of good provisions, and a good 
store of Great Moral Organ supplements, what 
more could the mind of man ask for ! 

As a few words about Long Branch may not 
be inappropiate, especially when it is considered 
that thence this letter is dated, perhaps you will 
pardon me if I descend to particulars for a mo- 
ment or two. Generally speaking the hotels are 
well filled. This assertion I hazard as the result 
of observation rather than of inquiry. The hotel 
clerk I venerate in the abstract, but I am rather 
afraid to approach him in the concrete. My ex- 
perience is that when he does not snub you he 
patronizes you, and I'd about as lief be killed 
one way as another. Where moral character 
and that sort of thing tells, I feel particularly at 
home, but where a man is judged only by his 
clothes, confidence fails me, and I am backward 
about coming forward. 



My Vacation. 13 

" Can I have a room ? " I modestly ask after 
registering my name. 

Clerk looks at me for a moment, takes in the 
general unostentatiousness of my apparel at a 
glance, turns away and attends to the swells who 
get credit of Bell instead of buying for cash of 
Porter, chats with the young men whom he knows 
for a few minutes, pauses to tell some old gen- 
tleman with a bald head the last brilliant bo?t 
mot apropos of the Beecher trial, and when every- 
body else is roomed and he has settled the pen 
right behind his ear, then he calls the smallest 
bell-boy in the office and turns to me with, " Show 
this gentleman up to 993 ! " And by this time 
I feel so humble about it that I bow to the bell- 
boy and look round for his bag and wonder how 
I'm to find No. 993 to show him to. 

I narrate now no particular grievance ; con- 
sider this the statement merely of a great general 
fact. Nor think that I blame the hotel clerk of 
the period. On the contrary, I am convinced 
that the fault lies with my tailor ; to him I shall 
address myself for the correction of the fault ', 
he must sling more style into my clothes, so to 



14 My Vacation. 

speak, tighten up my trousers' legs a trifle, roll 
the collar of my coat down lower, and add a foot 
or two to its skirt. Otherwise I shall have to 
wear a placard on my breast stating exactly how 
much these clothes do cost, for if you suppose 
that my tailor doesn't charge as much as any 
other one, just try him on once ! 

Comparatively unfamiliar with Long Branch, 
I cannot institute a fair comparison between 
this season and former ones, and the statements 
of hotel proprietors must be taken, of course, 
with more grains of salt than go with a cucum- 
ber. But all agree in saying that the season is 
scarcely up to the average ; and there is less 
dress and display, there are fewer fine turnouts 
and tandems, and such glittering generalities, 
than one would look for. The times make 
themselves felt to a certain extent, of course — 
with contracted incomes a contraction of expen- 
ditures becomes necessary — and again the Sar- 
atoga Regatta has probably drawn many away 
from the seaside. 

The west end is not quite " flush," and the 
Ocean House I should say has " drawn " fewei 



My Vacation. 15 

" pairs " still than go to make " a full." Of 
these two houses — which without invidiousness 
to the others may be called the leading taverns 
of the Branch — the West End seems to bear 
away the palm of solidity. It is here that wealth 
and respectability most do congregate, and there 
is a corresponding air of steady solemnity about 
the corridors. Guests bow gravely to each oth- 
er, and inquire about families and finance, and 
the Centennial, fanning themselves the while 
with The Atlantic, or a Popular Science Monthly. 
The Ocean House, on the other hand, is " more 
picturesquer," and the people there stir round to 
a livelier measure, shaking one another by the 
flipper in a frivolous way, and cracking jokes, 
and asking conundrums, while they rattle over 
the leaves of Harper's to see the pictures. 

Where wealth and respectability congregate, 
and The Atlantic is read, there you always find 
me. 




LIFE AT LONG BRANCH. 

BATHING UNFASHIONABLE AT THE WEST END 

WATER AS A MOTOR— LOOKING AT THE SEA AND 

TALKING OF THE UNATTAINABLE THE BLUFF 

AN EGYPTIAN GAME. 

Long Branch, Jul}^ 12. 

HAT is there half so sweet in life — if 
we except love's young dream and the 
first scollop of the season — 

As the girl late concealed ' 

By flounces and pillows, 
When she rushes revealed 

In the light of the billows ? 

Occasionally it occurs to me that I'd like to 
be a billow, several billows in fact. But I'd be 
eclectic in my treatment. Some of the bathers 
I'd drown. For, standing on the shore, I notice 
many who should never go in ; an equal number 
who should never be allowed to come out. We 
of the West End don't bathe much. It isn't 



My Vacation. 17 

" quite the thing," you know ! Too heavy 
swells for the surf, are we, you see ! A fellow 
can't carry his eye-glasses and cane into the 
breakers, and without them we'd be lost. The 
ladies would do it more if Worth — or the other 
man, Moschowitz — made bathing-dresses. But 
they won't. They'll make a woman a muslin 
megatherium and her husband a bankrupt, but 
they won't make her a bathing-dress. I suppose 
this is because of the impossibility of putting 
thirty yards of grenadine into one. 

Well, I don't blame others for not bathing. 
Individually, I had rather see bathin' than sea 
bathe. Being in the undertow has no charms 
for your correspondent ; I'd as lief be under- 
handed as undertoed. A common bath-tub an- 
swers very well for me, and soap does the work 
thoroughly enough without the aid of sand. 
There's no great fun in getting wet all over un- 
less one needs washing. If I made a practice 
of sea-bathing I think I'd have an India-rubber 
suit made and take an umbrella in with me. Wa- 
ter, as the old Frenchman remarked, has so tast- 
of sinners since the flood ! 



i8 My Vacation. 

Apropos of water, I do not believe in it as a 
motor, though some that I have drank — Hathorn 
for instance — is powerful enough to suit the 
most fastidious fancy. I once moved Appleton's 
dog, when he sat howling under my window at 
Riverdale at night, nigh upon a mile with a com- 
paratively small dipperful of plain hot water ; 
and I think that dog is going yet ; but that a lo- 
comotive can be run, from here to Philadelphia, 
say, by no other moving power, I will not believe 
till I see it done — and then I'll say it's spiritual- 
ism. 

Better than bathing I like to sit on the 
beach and look out upon the sea and talk of the 
Unattainable — the Unattainable with a big U, 

There is that about the sea which vexes while 
it fascinates me. Gazing out from the shore, far 
as human vision can reach, you can only see far 
enough after all to know that there is something 
beyond, and of that beyond you can only con- 
jecture unless you take the word of others for it. 
And the others, sitting on the beach with you 
and looking seaward, can see no farther than 
you — unless they happen to have a pocket tel- 



My Vacation. 19 

escope along, and even that won't enable them 
to see what isn't going on through an umbrella! 
If the sea would but be still for a moment or 
two — if it would only come up to the beach 
just once, and fold its hands, and for one brief 
instant hush its sad monotone, the complaining 
of a dissatisfied soul — 

If it would but " let the old cat die" once — 
as we used to say at school when we took turns 
at swinging under a tree — then it does seem to 
me that I too could go away and rest ! 

But no ; last thing at night the wail of the 
waves is in my ears, and when I wake in the 
morning still their sad sobbing is audible, and 
I know that all night long they have been toss- 
ing and tumbling like one in pain, ki^owing 
no sleep, finding no rest. 

Far out where the horizon — " the sapphire- 
spangled marriage-ring of the land" — stretches, 
all seems peaceful enough ; from there you hear 
no sound, and there you see no motion, and you 
think that on the shore Mrs. Browning must 
have sat, and far away from the shore she 
must have looked, when she wrote : 



20 My Vacation. 

'' And I smiled to think God's greatness 
Flowed around our incompleteness, 
Round our restlessness His rest." 

But alas, you know — if you Jcnow much of 
anything — that still the same tumultuous 
throbbing is there, that only the dim distance 
hides it, only the intervening space smothers 
it.; that the heart of Ocean is never still, and 
that its wild pulse-beats are felt and heard on 
every shore. 

Last evening we sat on the beach and piled 
up mounds of sand — these the monuments, we 
said, of a pleasant meeting. And this morning 
I went and looked for the mounds ; lo, they 
were gone. Are we not, all of us, all life through, 
mound-builders of this sort, more or less. 
What is there we can build up which shall not 
perish ? Verily, even this Great Moral Organ 
supplement shall not last for ever. If the flames 
get not hold of it, some young woman will wear 
it for a pannier, and so shall its last end be 
worse than the first. As regards leaving some- 
thing for posterity to look upon I don't know 
that it matters much whether I write in the morn- 



My Vacation. 21 

ing or pile up sand in the evening. For if I 
look in The Great Moral Organ for what I 
have written next morning, it is not there ; and 
if I look on the beach for my sand cairn, that is 
not there either. 

Do you not love to see the foam come in i 
It doesn't seem to care whether school keeps or 
not ; there's a joyousness about it which I would 
like to make mine. Look, it has its little fling, 
sparkles in the sunlight for a moment, and is 
gone. None care that it is gone perhaps, but 
what cares the foam ? Were choice yours, 
would you not say : 

"I'd rather be the glad, bright, leaping foam 
Than the smooth, sluggish sea. O let me live 
To love, and flush, and thrill, or let me die } " 

Really the temptation to go on with this sort 
of thing is very strong, but my moral force is 
equal to the occasion. It is expected that one 
shall do a little fine writing when he's by the 
sad sea waves, but it is possible to run the thing 
into the water — water too deep for utterance. 
Let us get back to soundings. 

After thinking Mr. Alexander Smith's simile 



22 My Vacation. 

about the ooean being the bridegroom and the 
beach the bride all over, I've concluded that it 
is correct in the main, and that Mr. Smith did 
pretty wt^ll, taking into account his limited 
knowledge, for at the period of life when this 
simile had birth the bard was unmarried. But 
it's all a mistake about the sea rushing up to 
deck the tawny brow of his bride with shells — at 
least that is not the order of the day — or night 
— at Long Branch. If you'll trust to me for it, 
he runs up and hits her over the head with a 
chunk of cord-wood, a dead dog, or some- 
thing else equally pleasant and fragrant. Nor 
does she seem to expect any better treatment at 
his hands, nor even does she go half way to re- 
ceive that; still she stands, and never stirs a 
peg to get out of the way, good patient type of 
woman that she is — but she doesn't step eagerly 
froward to take a belting for all that. 

It is a source of much regret to the general 
public that ladies refuse to be persuaded down 
to the beach more frequently. But the widows 
say the salt air spoils their crape, the girls don't 
want the crimp taken out of their hair, and mar- 



My Vacation. 23 

ried women — well I suppose it's no fun to 
"spoon" round with their own husbands, and 
they'd not go with any one else, of course. 

Wall St. empties itself into the Branch every 
Saturday. Oh the lame ducks that you see here 
of Sundays ! May I call them limp-ets ? Or do 
limpets only cling to rocks ? These seem at- 
tached to sand. 

The southern part of Long Branch seems 
higher than the northern. In front of the West 
End and along the shore we have a bluff. And 
financially as well as physically speaking, pro- 
perty is much higher along here than in other 
localities. You get a breeze in this vicinity 
when not a breath seems to be stirring elsewhere. 
But I can confidentially assert, as the result of 
repeated experiment, that it is possible to raise a 
breeze at short notice most anywhere, not excep- 
ting the remotest cottages, by calling round at 
inopportune times. The young man of most 
limited capacity can do this — indeed, the more 
limited his capacity the better for the purpose. 

As for the bluff around the West End, I am in- 
formed there is another game, near at hand, a 



24 -^y Vacation. 

game commonly known as Pharo. I don't know 
what it is exactly, but suppose it has something 
to do with the Egyptian king of that name ; in- 
deed, I have heard young men on the piazza 
speak of " copperin, the king" — all Egyptian 
kings are copper-colored, I believe — and of deal- 
ings with queens, &c. The name of Chamber- 
lain is frequently mentioned, too — this I suppose 
means a man who was chamberlain to some high- 
toned old king. When I once more get back to 
the bosom of my family I shall turn to the book 
of Exodus and see if I can find out what it all 
means. 

In a previous letter I mentioned the West End 
and the Ocean — as the only hotels here. There 
I was mistaken. There are more than you can 
shake a stick at. For this reason I have neither 
attempted to shake a stick at nor stick a stake 
into any one of them. I do not think I have 
even referred in complimentary terms to the 
house that sticks a steak into me. Nor is there 
any reason that I should. Mrs. Paul keeps a 
better house than any I've struck yet in all my 
wanderings, and it has never at any time occurred 



My Vacation. 25 

to me that I ought to give her a lift in a paper 
for it, neither has she ever seemed to expect one. 
As for hotels, the world over, they're all bad 
enough as contrasted with one's own house. 
There's a difference in them, of course — some 
are worse than others. Personally, I pre- 
fer the Gilsey to any other hotel in the world. 
This preference comes, perhaps, because of its 
charges being less ; a man can go there and live 
on nothing. If you don't believe me, try it once. 
Many men have gone there with nothing and 
come away with much. Instance in point : last 
week I put one shirt in the wash, and they gave 
me pieces enough to make three. I've not had 
time to put the pieces together yet, but hope to 
find the time between this and Sunday, making 
a shift to do without any in the meanwhile. 

As for the hotels here I copied the names of 
all out of a Long Branch Directory, so as to give 
them a fair and square deal all round in the way 
of mention, but lost the memorandum. As for 
the people, I made a list of names for publica- 
tion, but luckily found out that tho«3e I had down 
would punch my head if I put them in, and that 



26 My Vac at io 71. 

those I had not down would treat me similarly 
if I didn't ; so I burned up the memorandum- 
book, and this letter will go forth to the world 
bearing as a tag: one great name alone — that ot 
John Paul. 




MORAL REFLECTIONS APROPOS OF 
LONG BRANCH. 

HOW IT IS HOT THE GIRL OF THE DISHEVELLED 

SORT CRABS AND COTTAGES POSSIBILITY 

OF BEING VIRTUOUS AND YET HAVING CAKES 
AND ALE— SOCIAL SURGEONS A PLAN FOR MIX- 
ING SOCIETY. 



Long Branch, July 13. 




EVER until I saw them driving around 
here did I know who or what was meant 
by Hocy Polloi ! 
Occasionally we have a hot day at the Branch 
and this is a " blazer." It was only 9 of the morn- 
ing when I took my accustomed walk abroad, 
the many poor to see, but even then the sands 
were so hot that it seemed like treading over 
the Tartarean tiles. What there is of breeze is 
off land, but on the ocean there is scarce a rip- 
ple. Lazy fishing boats are bobbing up and 
down like buoys, and becalmed smacks, sloops. 



28 My Vacation. 

schooners, brigantines, brigs, barks, and full 
rigged ships lie in the distance, fanning their 
superheated masts with idly-flapping sails. The 
porpoises out yonder are sluggish in the sea, 
and stand on their heads, turning slow somer- 
saults, which expose only the tip of fin and tail 
to the sun, instead of bounding into the air with 
the wonderful vigor and elasticity observable in 
this fish when a brisk breeze is blowing and he 
has business to do. The fish-hawk perches him- 
self on his high, dry limb, and, safe for the mo- 
ment from his cruel pursuit, the menhaden is 
merry and the porgy has peace. Yesterday that 
same bird, now loafing on a limb, was hawk- 
ing fish through the air and screaming his wares 
vociferously. To-day you see he buries his 
talons in a napkin instead, as'twere. 

The girl of the disheveled sort, got up in that 
n'eglige way that requires more fixing than any 
other style of toilet, with blowing hair, her clothes 
half off, and one shoe-string and a stay-lace 
fluttering loosely in the wind, who promenades 
the beach with a Byron in her hand and an 
impression that she looks like Gulnare, has 



My Vacation. 29 

gone into the house. Not a planted umbrella, 
with two young persons green and growing 
under it, is to be seen on the beach. The 
piazzas even are deserted. Everybody, who has 
not gone to the races, is in his or her room 
ringing for ice and pitying those who are com- 
pelled to stay in the city. 

"I pities all unfortunate folks ashore now," 
sings the sailor in a gale of wind at sea, as he 
felicitates himself and his shipmates on being 
where single bricks and whole chimneys cannot 
come tumbling about their ears. 

There's a fitness about most things if one only 
sees them aright. Now these cottages of the sea- 
side, with their projecting points and angles and 
variegated colors, have to me very much the 
look of crabs. They seem " quite at home " on 
the sand, seeking no shade and asking no shade 
— at least such shade as you would give them — 
and ready to slide off sideways or pirouette up- 
on one leg and an ear gracefully backwards on 
very slight provocation. 

The analogies of life are always amusing to 
me. Some persons remind me of crabs, smooth 



30 My Vacation, 

on one side, prickly on another, and 3^011 can 
never tell which side you're going to find upper- 
most. Lay him down and you can't tell which 
way he means to travel ; pick him up you can't 
tell which way he is going to squirm, or exactly 
where he's going to claw you with those con- 
founded hooks and crooks in his awkward gyra- 
tions. His friendliest salutation is a pinch in- 
stead of a hand-shake, and the only way to carry 
him comfortably in your bosom is to eat him. 
'Tis a case of entire swallowing on one side or 
the other — either you must swallow the crab with 
all his gable-ends and outstanding cornices, or 
let him " gobble you up," hook and line, bob 
and sinker ; else it is an eternal struggle between 
you and the crab, a threshing round on the 
beach of life, and comfort for neither. 

We are all of us shellfish more or less, per- 
haps. I am a crab, thou art a crab, he, she, or 
it is a crab ; we are crabs, you are crabs, they 
are crabs. Deny it if you can-cer ! 

The hermit or soldier crab is to me an in- 
teresting object of contemplation. The fish 
hawk has his place of rest, the wild clam where 



My Vacation. 31 

to dwell, but the spirit that gave the bird its 
nest, did n't give this fellow a shell. So he has 
to forage for it, and he generally takes the larg- 
est one he can find. Were he a human creature 
you'd find him patronizing the "misfit stores" 
— stores to which clothes that do not fit those 
they are made for are sold by first-class tailors, 
and disposed of at reduced prices to a not very 
particular second-class sort of customers. 

When I see this unfortunate crab running 
round with that big shell on his back, I think of 
the many men I know who have moved into 
houses too large for their means and are now 
staggering under them and a mortgage. 

Notwithstanding the warmth of the day it is 
pleasanter in reality than the murky, muggy 
weather which has been the rule heretofore 
since my arrival. Now the air is clear and dry ; 
then it fitted you closely, hung upon you and 
about you like hot, steaming flannel, so desti- 
tute of electricity that not a spark went out into 
your conversation, let you agitate and rub the 
crystal cylinder of your brain never so violently ; 
/loma nodded, women drowsed. Oh, the misera- 



32 My Vacation. 

61e feeling, the gloom, the depression that come 
over one at such times ! When the little boy, 
leading a man who looks as though in some 
convulsion of the laundry a washtub had sneezed 
indigo all over his face, approaches you, asking 
pitifully, " Something for the Blue man. Sir," 
you feel like telling him and the blew man to go 
away and be blowed, for you're a blue man your- 
self to-day, deeply, darkly, beautifully blue, but 
you don't ; on the contrary you give a green- 
back to his blue face and send him on his way 
rejoicing. For you may be blown up yourself, 
some day, and how would that soot you ? 

The only man of color I object to is a 
Dun! 

Let me frankly confess, however, that I do 
not like to have a social surgeon for a compan- 
ion. I know that under that fair girl's skin lie 
raw, red flesh, unsightly veins and arteries, and 
ghastly hued muscles — other things, unpleasant 
to contemplate perhaps — but for all that I don't 
want her peeled for me. Duin vivimus I Be 
dumb while you are living with us, and while we 
are living with them. Let us enjoy that which is 



My Vacation. 33 

enjoyable in her, her grace, freshness, and en- 
thusiasm ; let us regale ourselves on that which 
is good, and let the rest go if there be any which 
is not good, and undoubtedly there is if one dives 
beneath the surface. But why go beneath the 
surface ? You meet but at the surf, and don't intend 
to marry. It is not necessary to peel these belles 
in my ears week days and Sundays as though you 
were a sexton and I a ghoul, fond of funerals. At 
the present writing I'm not looking round for 
anybody to eat. This man may be a gambler ; that 
one a horse thief. But I have no money to lose, no 
horse to be stolen. The one can tell me something 
I want to know ; the other can explain something 
I'm curious about. K;// can't, my respectable 
friend, for I have long had access to your circle, 
and know pretty much all that you do — and the 
bulk of it isn't worth knowing. Arabella is very 
charming, but Anonym a can tell me more in ten 
minutes than Arabella could in a life-time, and 
that either would damage me very seriously is 
not clear to the unassisted vision. I'm the father 
of a family, and not a sardine. What are you, 
neighbor codfish ? 

3 



34 -^' Vacation. 

Is it not possible to be virtuous and yet have 
both cakes and ale ? It is also possible to be 
virtuous and have only mush and milk, but all 
don't like that for a steady diet. There must 
be a point somewhere where respectability ends 
and stupidity begins — peace on earth will never be 
mine till I find it. For that stupidity and respec- 
tability, if not one and the same thing, must at 
least go hand in hand, I for one do not believe. 

Seems to me there is something wrong about 
the arrangement of things at present. Take 
the churches, for instance — the very people get 
preached to who stand least in need of preach- 
ing ; those most in need of preaching and teach- 
ing don't get a bit of it. 'Tis just as though the 
blessed rain should fall only on fat corn-fields, 
where a goodly congregation of ears and stalks 
is gathered together. Fortunately no human 
hand holds the rains, and both they and the 
dev/ fall on the unjust as well as the just (which 
is why I get wet, occasionally), watering waste 
places and invigorating the whole earth. 

If one of your fine preachers would set up a 
dummy in his pulpit some Sunday his people per- 



My Vacation. 35 

haps would not discover the difference, and he 
could go into the slums and tell a few of the 
slummers things they have never heard, 
while perhaps they in return might be able to 
tell him a good deal he has never dreamed of 
and which it would be well for him to know. 

Weeds and grasses grow together ; each has its 
uses I suppose ; good can be got out of both if 
one go about it in the right way. That tall 
Timothy there won't hurt you more than a chap- 
ter of an Epistle, undoubtedly, but the belladonna 
standing in close juxtaposition has a mission and 
a meaning to you .as well— don't make a full 
meal of it, though. Sometimes I think that if the 
good and bad in this world would mix a little 
more neither would be much harmed and both 
might be the better for it. 

Still, coming to think about it, I don't know 
that I'd care to see my wife chasseeing round 
with that blackleg yonder on the beach, or sit- 
ting down to a plate of ice-cream with the anony- 
mousness that has just gone flashing by in a 
basket phaeton. Theories are well enough in 
their way, but practice knocks them higher than 



6 My Vacation. 



a kite, as Russell Sage remarked to Isaac Sher- 
man in a little discussion about finance last eve- 
ning. And I never could touch theology or 
these social questions with a ten-foot pole even 
without making a mess of it, and you won't 
again for a good while catch me so far away from 
my base as I've got to-day. So make the most 
of this run. 

Strolling out doors now^, in the middle of the 
day, I find it cool and comfortable enough for 
anybody, the thermometer marking 75°, a fresh 
south-east wind blowing in from the sea, the fish- 
hawks flying round, porpoises rolling, Isabella 
sitting on the beach under a gingham umbrella, 
and everybody, in short, doing just the very 
things I said they were not doing when this let- 
ter began, and which they were not doing at that 
time. 

All of which only proves how Tempus fiigit — 
which may be literally translated, perhaps, into 

lament that few get a good time. I for one am 
going to start out right now and see if I can't 
get one. 



FISH-HAWKS AND FINANCE AT LONG 
BRANCH. 

THE FISH-HAWK AND THE HACKMEN OF THE 

AIR THE YOUNG WOMAN WHO SITS ON THE 

SHORE TWO CAPITALISTS ON INFLATION 

LET INTO THE SECRET OF HOTEL MAN- 
AGEMENT AT THE BRANCH. 

Long Branch, July 14. 
He roosts him not upon the sands, 
But up above their grasping hands — 
Your Jerseyman he understands. 

The soldier-crab beneath him sprawls 
But not on him my wise bird falls — 
For breakfast he prefers fish-balls. 

HA'TS the Fish-hawk. 

He's a born Brancher. Perched on a 
high and dry limb you see him, the 
while the cars whirl you over the wild sands 
at the reckless speed of seven miles or so 
an hour. Is he not a male and a brooder ? That 
nest of his, by the way, is a wonderful creation. 




;^S My Vacatmi. 

It was built by day's work, not by contract, and 
long before the war. Material was lower then 
than it is now — the driftwood and cordage, 
which go to make it up, were never before so 
high. 'Tis a raft up a tree, but rafters it has 
not. Neither has it many rooms, and here you 
see a wise provision of Providence. The head 
of this family is never tempted to go spooking 
round from one apartment to another, looking 
for a soft spot whereon he may lay his head. 
Neither, in such event, could the female bird be 
persuaded to follow him solicitously with a pil- 
low ; the readiest thing to hand is a sharp stick, 
and with that she'd be after him if with anything. 
Another good thing about the Hawk House is 
that there are no stairs to go up ; on a similar 
plan of architecture I intend to construct my 
cottage. It shall all be down stairs, with vesti- 
bule and hall door on the roof ; no cellar-kitchen, 
no dumb waiter, for me. I don't see how a dumb 
waiter can answer ; if in the wi-de, wide world 
there be one that does, I'd like to hear from it. 

The fish-hawk is not an eagle. Mountain 
heights and clouds he never scales ; fish are more 



My Vacation. 39 

in his way, he scales them— possibly regarding 
them as scaly-wags. For my bird is pious ; a 
stern conservator is he of the public morals. 
Last Sunday a frivolous fish was playing not far 
from the beach and Dr. Hawk went out and 
stopped him. 'Tis fun to watch him at that sort 
of work — stopping play — though somehow it 
doesn't seem to amuse the fish much. Up in 
the air he poises pensively, hanging on hushed 
wings as though listening for sounds — may be a 
fish's. By and by he hears a herring — is he hard 
of herring, think you ? Then down he drops 
and soon has a Herring Safe. (Send me some- 
thing, manufacturers, immediately.) Does he tear 
his prey limb from limb ? No, he merely sails 
away through the blue ether — how happy can he 
be with ether ! — till the limb whereon his own 
nest is built is reached. Does the herring en- 
joy that sort of riding, think you ? Quite as 
much, I should say, as one does hack-driving. 
From my point of view the hawk is but the 
hackman of the air. Sympathize with the fish ? 
Not much. Nor would you if you heard the pit- 
iful cry the hawk sets up the moment he finds 



40 -M"}' Vacation. 

that his claws are tangled in a fish's back. Home 
he flies to seek domestic consolation, uttering 
the while the weeping cry of a grieved child ; 
there are tears in his voice, so you know the fish 
must be hurting him. The idea that a hawk can't • 
fly over the water of an afternoon without some 
malicious fish jumping up and tiyingto bite him. 
If a fish wants to cross the water safely, let 
him take a Fulton ferryboat for it. There he 
will find a sign reading : 

"no peddling or hawking 
allowed in this cabin." 

Strange that hawking should be so sternly 
prohibited on boats which are mainly patronized 
by Brooklynites chronically afflicted with catarrh ? 

Why did they not have the regatta at Pleasure 
Bay (a sort of tender to the Branch) not far from 
here, instead of at Saratoga ? 'Tis the famous- 
est place for catching crabs in the universe, and 
that's about all the young oarsmen seem to do 
when they '' regat." The row, too, that is made 
over the catching ! Was the apple of discord a 
crab apple, I wonder ? 



My Vacation. 41 

Besides Pleasure Bay there are numbers of 
other pleasant places within easy driving, almost 
within comfortable walking distance of the 
Branch.— Red Bank, for instance. Indeed 

. I know a Red Bank where the wild thyme grows, 
and thither a young lady and myself walked yes- 
terday morning, not for the purpose of having a 
wild time, at all, but merely for the walk. But the 
bank where the wildest time can be had is a 
faro-bank I fancy. When I hazard this hypothe- 
sis, however, do not think that I belong to the 
Fancy. 

At the Branch it is held that to walk is human, 
to drive about divine. If disposed for a drive all 
you have to do is to call a hackman, and tell him 
exactly how much money you have — all the rest 
is easy. After passing over your pocket-book, 
unhooking your gold watch and chain, and giv- 
ing a bond and mortgage on your property at 
Metuchin, N. J., the rest of it is plain sailing ; 
you can go without further let or hinderance to 
Eatonville, Branchport, Rumson Neck — which is 
necks to t'other place — Tinton Falls, or Deal. 

Or, you can find a deal nearer to the West End I 

I 



42 My Vacation.. 

— whether or not it is a square deal, I can't tell 
you. Thirst you for the tiger ? There is the jungle. 
The leopard may not change his spots, but that 
your ten-spots will change hands, if you tempt the 
layer-out of his lair,is more than likely. If you lose, 
go for sympathy to the same man with whom you 
would have divided the '^ pot," had you chanced 
to win. But I scarce think the first letters of that 
man's name w^ould spell out any human initials. 
Oh, a golden comb for golden hair, 
And milk white pearls for a neck as fair, 
And silver chains and all for me, 
The day my ship comes home from sea. 

So sang the maiden, sitting on the shore, and 
watching the coming and going of the tide, the 
sea-foam as it blew like fluffs of wool, across the 
beach. At her feet where they had been strewn 
by the lavish sea, lay shells and shining pebbles. 
Weird wrinkles on the beach showed where each 
successive wave, ambitiously climbing to reach 
higher than his fellow, had spent itself. Here 
you saw the splintered end of a spar protruding — 
part of a mast, perhajDS, that had danced some 
brave flag high aloft, now lying prone and all but 



3Iy Vacation. 43 

buried in the sand. There lay a piece of oak- 
en bulwark, a fragment to which a mother with 
a babe may have clung, torn from some stout 
ship's sides. But a few feet out from the shore 
the gaunt ribs of a wreck loomed dark in the 
moonlight — bobbing- up and down in the 
water they suggest ghostly bathers. Yet still the 
maiden sat and sang of her ship to arrive, and 
with the light fingers of fancy strung her neck 
and filleted her forehead with the pearls and gold 
with which fond hope promised her that it came 
freighted. Alas, poor girl, she knew not that 
even then her ship had sunk at sea, that down, 
down, many score fathoms down, its white sails 
were mildewing, and that already the mermaid- 
ens were making sport of her treasures ! She 
read not the omens which lay round her aright — 
better, perhaps, that she should not ; for she may 
forget the ship at sea, never remember that it 
has been long, long overdue, till fancy has 
freighted another for her. Alas, are there no 
underwriters for human hopes ? — for the most 
precious of interests is there no insurance ? 
Better by far, though, that a ship should sink 



44 ^h' Vacation. 

far out at sea than go clown alongside the wharf 
when harbor has been safely reached, erecting its 
gaunt and stained timbers in 3^our sight, a per- 
petual remembrance of the dead. 

A plague upon this poetry ; it will be the death 
of me yet ! But what shall one do when the fit 
is on him and the stars and the sea swing in 
rhythm together ! " Bring me a harp-shell, quick 
that I may strike it," I shouted. Alas, but a bell 
boy and not a muse — not even a sea-mew — re- 
sponded. 

" For practice knocks theory higher than a 
kite." That is what Mr. Sage remarked to Mr. 
Sherman last evening. 

The conversation was on Finance, a subject 
v/ith which I am popularly supposed to be familiar ; 
so there was no impropriety after all in carrying 
it on in my presence. Mr. Sherman is a '^bear," 
he sees no prospect of a bettering of business in 
the immediate future ; on the contrary, it is his 
opinion that things will go from bad to worse, 
that we stand on the threshold of hard times, 
that soon the door will swing wide open and that 
then we shall see — that which we shall see. 



My Vacation. 45 

Mr. Sage, on the other hand, considers the 
present business depression as only temporary, 
brought about mainly by over-production in con- 
nection with a lessened demand, an unfortunate 
state of things in which our country by no means 
stands alone, but a state of things which will right 
itself naturally, and without any great shock or 
convulsion — at least at present. Both men are 
redemptionists, holding very similar view^s as re- 
gards the inexpediency of inflation, but differing 
as to the business outlook of the moment. Mr. 
Sherman's idea is that specie payments are less 
distant than is generally supposed ; tJiat the public, 
tired of currency, will not base transactions on it ; 
hence the general stagnation, a refusal to make 
any ventures. Insensibly the public, he says, is 
already adjusting things on a specie basis. If 
a man go to a capitalist to borrow money on a 
piece of property, he has not the assurance to ask 
for much more than half as much as he would 
Iim^e demanded two years ago, nor could he bor- 
row it if lie did. The impressions of both bor- 
rower and leiider have undergone a change as 
regards values. The question of specie pay- 



46 My Vacation. 

menis has in great measure gone out of the hands 
of conventions and the people ; rapidly as pos- 
sible it is resolving itself, and with little outside 
help. A similar struggle is going on in other 
countries, and a similar solution may be reached 
simultaneously. At present gold and silver are 
demonetized in France, Italy, and Austria as 
v/ell as in the United States, being a commodity 
merely, and not money. In consequence, specie 
has flowed out from these non-specie-paying coun- 
tries to those where there is a use for it. The in- 
stant these countries resume specie payments, 
back to them it flows again : here you have an 
immense contraction in fact, and immediately the 
shoe begins to pinch. About this time look out 
for breakers — to say nothing of brokers and 
bankers. 

It is very jDossible that I have got Mr. Sherman's 
ideas a little mixed with my own, for to tell the 
truth it does puzzle me dreadfully at times to de- 
cide just where my own ideas end and other 
people's begin. If so, I ask his pardon for the mis- 
representation ; certainly there wns only sound 
sense in his talk, however I may have translated 



My Vacation. 47 

it. This is certain, however : he looks for no 
let up in the present business depression, hold- 
ing rather to the view that in comparison with 
what is to come we may eventually look back 
and consider these as very tolerable times indeed. 

Mr. Sage says theories are all well enough, 
but the best frequently fail in practical applica- 
tion. That navigation never comes to a perfect 
standstill because apprehension may be enter- 
tained of a squall, and that people are not 
going to stay in doors all day because it looks 
like rain. He says that Mr. Sherman has been 
talking this way for ten years now, but that he for 
his part instead of standing round with an umbrel- 
la permanently hoisted with both hands above his 
head, has moved around and done business 
and made some money. That he thinks there is 
still room to make a few profitable turns before 
the world comes to an end, and that a business 
man always has to take certain chances. All of 
which seems to me so sensible that I'd be willing 
in the future to trust him with twenty pieces of 
gold v.'ithout counting it. 

Mr. Sherman's talk seemed sensible to me. 



48 .My Vacatio7i, 

too — the most sensible of any I have heard for 
some time. And he talks with knowledge, 
understand, with facts and figures at his fingers' 
ends, and can give you a reason for everything 
he says. What is one to do when two such men 
differ about the future ? Really I don't know, 
unless you follow the guiding rule of my life, and 
of two sensible men choose the less. 

But now let me get my own oar in just once. 
It seems to me that a deal of liquidation has 
been going on which is not felt as yet. The liquid 
is getting pretty low in some reservoirs, in fact, 
and let people but discover just how low it is, 
and there may be music of a most unpleasant 
character in the air. To illustrate v^^hat I mean : 
Here at Long Branch is a cottage which with its 
grounds cost $47,000. Last Summer a resident 
of the place — nowise interested in the property — 
urged a capitalist with whom I am acquainted, 
to buy it as an investment for $45,000 — at which 
price it was offered. This Summer the property 
was bought in by the mortgagee — a life insurance 
company — under a foreclosure for $27,000. And 
they have approached my friend several times to 



My Vacation. 49 

urge him to take the piopert}^ off their hands at 
that price — the bare amount of the mortgage. 
But he does not see it, exactly. 

Let our Hfe insurance company be compelled 
themselves to sell that property — as the chances 
are that they will be before they're done with it — 
and what would it bring? Probably not the 
half of what they have been obliged to purchase 
it at. Now, here is but one individual instance. 
If you doubt that the bulk of savings bank money, 
and other money which may be suddenly wanted 
some day,is loaned out on just such fancy property, 
appraised originally at just such fancy valuations, 
just you go and make a few inquiries in a quiet 
way. And then come back, and tell me if a 
good many saving people should some day take 
it into their heads that they'd like to feel of their 
own money, and ask for it, what would be the 
result ? Where would fancy property go to t 
And where would the few who had a fancy for 
buying a piece of fancy jDroperty, at what seemed 
low figures, get the money from to buy it with, 
notwithstanding that their bank-books showed a 
balance ? 

4 



50 My Vacation. 

There is nothing like having a financial head 
on two shoulders, unless one has two financial 
heads on one shoulder ! 

I do not know what there is in my face which 
marks me out for a statistician, fond of figures, 
given to estimates, thirsty for all sorts of know- 
ledge. But at very few hotels in the land have 
I ever stayed where the landlord has not volun- 
teered to show me around, up and down the 
kitchen, through the laundry, into the meat safe, 
to make me familiar with all the penetralia of 
the establishment, in fact, but the money-drawer. 
It must be that I somehow look like a man who 
is fond of crawling through cellars and climbing 
over soap boxes, and stretching out his limbs in 
the shady recesses of a refrigerator. The gentle- 
manly proprietor of the West End is the last one 
who has taken me in hand. For some days I 
had noticed him studying my face curiously. 
At last he moved bodily upon the works this 
morning, and seized me by the hand. "All 
right. Sir ; the desire of your heart shall be grati- 
fied." I had a very sharp-cut presentiment of 
what was coming, but followed on in silence. In 



My VacatioJi. 51 

five minutes I was in the fish house, in six I was 
in the scullery, in seven I was in the soap -room, 
in eight I was in — but why enumerate further ? 
I was shown everything before we had clone with 
it, but the bar-room. Likevvdse I was made 
acquainted with an adm.irable system of accounts, 
a system by which a check is kept on every one 
about the house but the head chambermaid — no 
system for checking a chambermaid has ever 
yet been devised. Thus, a piece of beef coming 
in is charged to the proprietor, he charges it to 
the steward, the steward charges it to the cook, the 
cook charges it to the pantry-man, the pantry- 
man charges it to somebody else, and then a 
guest steps forward and pays for it. 

I have gathered items of information about 
the quantities of things consumed in Long Branch 
hotels, which will be of enormous use to me in 
after life ; items wdiichwill make me in the fu- 
ture a wiser and a wetter man. For instance, 
at the West End there are 21,000 toothpicks and 
one bottle of anchovy sauce used up in a week. 
A bar of soap doesn't last much more than a 
day. The average daily cost of feeding a guest. 



52 Jlfy Vacation. 

taking one day with another, is ten cents a head. 
And so it goes on ; all expenditure, little or no- 
thing coming in. Enough to discourage any 
man from keeping a hotel, unless he have either 
Mr. Hildreth's good nature, Mr. Presbury's re 
spectable appearance, Mr. Leland's bank ac- 
count, or the patience of John Paul. 



UP THE HUDSON TO SARATOGA. 

THE NOSE OF MY YOUTH ASSIGNED TO A 

BRIDAL CHAMBER THE POETRY OF IT A DROP 

INTO THEOLOGY SARATOGA WITH A FRONT 

TOOTH OUT A BIG BAR A MISUNDERSTAND- 
ING ABOUT CLOTHES. 



Saratoga, July 17. 

T is fifteen years and more since I have 
sailed up the Hudson. 
Nous revenons toujours a nos premiers amours, 




says a proverb, and the proverb has truth to 
back it. Bald-headed, do we not return to the 
beauty that enslaved us when young ? Is not 
mother earth a boy's first love ? To her skirts 
did we not fondly cling Avhen we planned out 
the business of the day ; in her dimples did we 
not burrow when we made mud-pies ? To her 
bosom do we not return when we die ? 

Years ago I became enamored of Anthony's 
Nose. Last night I embraced it again. No 



54 ^y Vacation. 

change was there. 'Tis the only nose I know 
of, the azure one of Ocean alone excepted, on 
which Time writes no wrinkles. All other 
noses round me are redder now than they once 
were ; not so Anthony's. Nor has it increased 
in size. Wonder you that when one meets the 
nose of his youth — the only illusion that has 
not faded, the single and singular friend that 
has not gone back on him — he feels like having 
a blow-out ? 

Bring hither foaming, sparkling, brimming 
goblets of Congress water. Yea, of Hathorn, 
High Rock, Columbian, Empire, Geyser, Star, 
Excelsior, Saratoga " A," Eureka, Hamilton, 
White Sulpher even, and let us pour out deep 
libations while we grasp old Anthony's Nose by 
the hand and dance round the grand base which 
has never once been changed in a century ! 

Alone vvith moonlight and a memory, the 
same stars shining over us that shone 15 years 
ago — aye, the same stars that led the Children 
of Israel over the plains and in their courses 
fought against Sisera — a perpetual fountain play- 
ing at the bow where the swift keel divides the 



Aly Vacatioji. 55 

waters and clashes them up in spray, the waves 
voiceless, the decks silent, and a hush in the air 
— is this not pleasant? Little white villages 
sj^ring suddenly into sight on the river banks ; 
\\Q>y< and again you come upon a cemetery, its 
pale marbles glistening in the silver moonlight ; 
anon some iron furnace, its lurid fires lighting 
" the darkness of the scenery," bursts upon your 
startled vision, and the boat shudders away down 
in the depths of her timbers as she leaps by the 
baleful spectre. 

Who could leave such witchery as this for 
even a bridal-chamber. And on this beautiful 
night that chamber was mine. " Boffin's Bow- 
er," indeed ! Boffin's Bower was a fool to that 
which the kind fates upon this blissful night 
allotted to me. A ceiling fretted with 

roses, 

The old agitation 
Of myrtles and roses, 

Cupids, with bows and arrows and festoons and 
garlands, and not much else in the way of dry 
goods to bother them, and doves with bills so 



56 My Vacation. 

intermingled that they seemed but one, looked 
down upon me from that canopy of blue. Do 
you marvel, good friend, that at all these frescoes 
I gazed the night through and thought mainly 
but of that bill ? 

Look I like a blushing bride, that Capt. Roe 
thus roomed me ? True on this eventful evening 
I met the love of my youth — not Anthony's 
Nose, but the star-eyed Hudson — my soul min- 
gled with the water, and the water and the sole 
other element with which it should ever be min- 
gled, became one. But I'm unaware that my 
face shone much more seraphically than usual. 

There must be a certain poetry in my face, an 
eloquence in my eye, a vague, indefinite yearning 
upon my brow, that I should be treated thus. 
It may be that ofttimes a man possesses a grace 
whereof he himself knows not, that he carries 
within him a lamp unseen (or kerosene) to him- 
self _, but plainly visible to others, so that all get 
his measure at once. Looking at the face oppo- 
site me in the mirror, I should expect that a 
saddle of mutton would be set ajDart for me 
sooner than a bridle-chamber ; but this only 



My Vacatio7t. 57 

proves how little men know themselves and how 
much better other men know them. 

It may be that I got the best room on the 
boat because of trusting to Providence and not 
telegraphing or making a fuss to secure apart- 
ments before starting. Luck h.elps those who 
do not help themselves. In the lottery of boats 
I drew the Drew ; and having had sufficient for 
the day, I gave myself no concern about the 
night — did not even ask the watchman to tell 
me about it. Hoping something better, but 
conscious that I deserved nothing so good, and 
prepared, if need be, for something much worse, 
I was ready to lie down with the cot-forsaken * 
wretches in the middle aisle of the cabin if noth- 
ing better turned up. Look, mark you, how my 
patient faith and calm resignation were rewarded. 
And sometimes I fancy that our souls would get 
along better here if we worried less about them. 
Would it not be well to act on the belief that 
they're checked through and not worry about the 
baggage till our final destination is reached ? 

* The Great Moral Organ thought cot-forsaken was a 
" cuss-word," and crossed it out off the copy they printed. 



58 My Vacation. 

I didn't mean to drop into theology. How it 
thus hajDpened I have no idea at all, unless the 
portrait of Drew, which graces the broad stairs 
of the boat of that name, inspired the train of 
thought. There you have a man who has 
attended to business right straight along ; occa- 
sionally he'd throw away $500,000 or so on a 
theological seminary, perhaps, or pause in his 
good career to give a friend a point, but he 
didn't do it often. All his life long — ever since 
he was drover at least — has he not gone abouf 
doing good and putting his friends into good 
things ? Has he ever stopped all this while to 
consider that he had a soul .? Has the idea 
that he had one ever occurred to any body else ? 
One says we are villains all, another that all 
men are liars, still another that all men are mad. 
There has invariably been a methodism in the 
madness of the good Daniel, however, and 
now the end seems near. There is no reason, 
young man, why your last end should not be 
like his if you do exactly as he has done — that 
is to say, if you consistently and persistently 
'•'do" others. 



My Vacation, 59 

But wh}^ so much about soul when you are at 
Saratoga ? Why dwell upon the Hudson when 
one is here ? you ask. Surely the words of 
the old song, a song that was tinkled upon 
guitars when pianos were in their cradle, cannot 
have faded from out your memory : 

My heart's in the Highlands, 
My heart is not here : 

My heart's in the Highlands 
A-watching the steer, 
A-watching the steer- 
ing of brave Captain Roe : 

My heart's in the Highlands 
Wherever I go ! 

Saratoga has changed in some particulars 
since last season. She looks like a belle who 
has lost a front tooth. On the corner, where 
the Grand Central last year stood, there is 
now a deficiency — as of an incisor. A black 
and jagged gap mars the clean beauty of the old 
maiden's front elevation. To offset this, though, 
the old end of her most righteous and sightly 
molar, the Grand Union, has been removed 
and a new crown built. The effect is incisive- 
fine. 



6o My Vacation. 

In order to improve his property, Mr. Stewart 
has only ruined a church ; but that's nothing. 
You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs, 
as Bismarck remarked. " The nearer the 
Church the further from God," is a popular say- 
ing ; and in this view of it, where could bar-rooms 
and billiard-rooms be more fitly situated than di- 
rectly alongside sacred walls ? This door lets 
you into the bar-room, the door just above lets 
you into a Church. You see, 

" There's a spirit above 

And a spirit below, 
There's a spirit of joy 

And a spirit of woe. 
The spirit above 

Is a spirit divine, 
And the spirit below 

Is the spirit of wine." 

Why are these great hotels arranged with the 
ladies' parlor at one end and the bar at the other ? 
Is it to drive young men to extremities — to force 
them to encounter blue ruin, take either horn of 
the dilemma they choose ? There is no warning 
sign on the ladies' parlor, but the other quarters 
are made conspicuous by a huge sign in letters 



My Vacation. 6i 

of elitterina: jrilt. The sio;n can be read afar olf, 
— and your nose will be red too if you approach 
it much nigher. 



Oh, earnest thoughts within me rise, 

As I behold afar 
Suspended right before my eyes 

The shield of that Great Bar. 



I don't know whether that is Longworth or 
Longfellow. Ascribe it to whom you willj call 
the verse mine, if you like, and the bar my aver- 
sion. 

It was my intention to say a great deal about 
the improvement that has taken place in Saratoga. 
To burn one hotel down and build another up 
was an excellent idea, but I cannot amplify upon 
it just now quite so much as I could wish. If 
further explanation of the why must be made, I 
came away from home without clothes. And 
thus far the most urgent appeals, by both letter 
and telegraph, have failed to bring me any. 
That the mere fact of my having accidentally 
put a letter intended for Mrs. Paul into an en- 
velope addressed to another young woman fur- 



62 My Vacation. 

nishes an explanation of the domestic reticence 
I cannot believe, for I'm certain that I made tlie 
thing even by putting the letter intended for the 
other young woman into tlie envelope which went 
to Mrs. Paul. Nothing could be fairer than a 
split like this, for certainly it carried with it no 
percentage in favor of the dealer ! But there has 
been a silence in the air, a muteness about the 
mail, for some days now, and no clothes arrive, 
(I never could write worth a cent without clothes.) 
The simple statement that she had received a 
letter evidently intended for some one else in an 
envelope addressed to her in my handwriting, 
and the incidental remark that she would reserve 
comment till I returned home, is all I have heard 
from Mrs. Paul upon the subject. But strange to 
say, I have no bounding impatience to return 
home and hear what those comments are. There 
never was much curiosity about me any way, and 
in this case I haven't a bit. Much as I would 
like to gaze upon the innocent face of Jonathan 
Edwards, I still feel that it is better to postpone 
that pleasure. Being without clothes is some- 
thing of a drawback to human happiness certain- 



My Vacation. 63 

ly, but I'd rather be without clothes than with- 
out hair. And perhaps, if the weather warms up 
a little, I won't want any. 




AFTER THE REGATTA. 

SOCIAL CHANGES nVROUGHT BY THE THE OARS- 
MEN A MAN IN HIS CUPS SILVER CUPS AND 

CHINA BOWLS STEERING DOWN THE DINING- 
ROOM COURSE THOMPSON. 

Saratoga, July 19. 

At once tl>ere rose so wild a yell, 
Within that dark and narrow dell, 
As all the fiends from heaven that fell 
Had peeled themselves to spell Cornell. 

HAT'S Walter Scott ! 
You'll find it in the Lady of Saratoga 
Lake— long measure there, but common 
meet her here. With provisions at their present 
price I can't afford much original poetry. When 
I do drop into it, just for old acquaintance' sake, 
the bell will ring long enough beforehand to let 
you get out of the way. 

What a thing it is to be a " gentleman and 
a sculler " now-a-days, to be sure ! 




My Vacation. 65 

C-0-R-N-E-L-L-L-L-L. As my English friend 
remarked, they made an L of a noise Given an 
inch at the winning-post, they wanted a good 
many L's, and insisted on having them. 

Saratoga is Golgotha no longer — not now is it 
a place of the Sculls. The collegians have 
shouldered their shells and vanished into their 
respective vacations. But though a week or so 
has silently sculled down the River of Time since 
the Regatta, and the wakes of the boats have 
faded from out the bosom of the lake, the ripple 
of the race still remains upon the town, ruffling 
the spring waters and agitating fair bosoms into 
tumultuous billows of tulle. Ecni is no longer 
an outside garment. There is never a lady, 
young or old, in the village, to the manor born 
or only a " transient guest," who does not wear 
a crew within. And the winning crew, of course. 

The room formerly occupied by the captain of 
the Columbia was assigned to me on arrival. All 
its decorations are white and blue, the carpet, 
the furniture, and the frescoes. The single ex- 
ception is found in my shins, which are black and 
blue, with tumbling over the wardrobes, and bu- 



66 Mj Vacation. 

reaus, and base-ball clubs, and trapeze bars with 
which the apartment was lavishly furnished in 
honor of its former occupant. All the day long 
I sit here on the floor and think I'm a float, I'm 
a float — or a bobber, a bobber, \Yhich is the same 
thing on a fish-line. And at night I lay myself 
down to dream I'm a shell, I'm a shell. Waking, 
I regret to find I'm not, for I'd like to be made 
of paper and have some one to navigate me — 
a skilful hand could perhaps make my paper pass 
current. 

The excitement has left its imjorint on society. 
Young women no longer ask you for an arm ; it 
is, " Give me your starboard oar, please." Instead 
of proposing a walk to and through the hotels, 
they say, " Let us take a pull round the hash 
cribs." In the evening, not a waltz but a "double 
scull race " is suggested. After gliding gracefully 
through a figure or two of the Lancers, your part- 
ner,in a whisper, requests you to " make a spurt at 
the finish." When an awkward dancer trips he 
or she is said to have " caught a crab." A young 
woman no longer apologizes for her hair being 
disarranged, but says that her row-locks are out 



My Vacatio7i. 67 

of fix. The " Origin of Races " is asked for at 
the bookstores,' and an impression prevails that 
the Darwinian theory solves the vexed question 
of tlie winnin' stroke. Sensible people are no 
longer said to be level-headed, but to " keep an 
even keel." A young man making inquiries about 
a girl whose figure pleases him does not ask what 
she is worth, but, What's her tonnage ? 

Amid this freshet of boating terms the good 
old Saxon and horse sense of the racing men 
shines out like a good word in a nautical world. 

The mania has even infected hotel men. Good 
schooner-built Mr. Breslin got the fit on him and 
spent more money than I pay him in a week for 
regatta prizes — silver cups. A man must be in 
his cups to do that sort of thing. By way of en- 
couraging this thing along, the captains of the 
crews held a meeting and declined the prizes 
with thanks. Why the captains did so — alas 
poor crews, oh — unless because the cups were 
empty, I cannot imagine. Had they been filled 
with Rhenish — ruddy Rudesheimer or amber 
Yquem — depend upon't there'd have been a pull 
for them. But no harm's done. Sooner than 



68 My Vacation. 

see so many dollars' worth of silver go a-begging, 
I'll take it myself. Put the cup to thy nabob's 
lips, O beauteous Breslin, cup me, thou cupper 
of the period, and all your trouble's ended. Fear 
no refusal ; I will give bonds to take all in that 
line that is offered to me. 

The idea of a landlord's passing round silver 
cups as big as spittoons, when he hasn't a bow- 
in his house ! Wishing bread and milk for sup- 
per last night, I called for a bowl of it. The 
waiter brought me a spoon and saucer, and 
said there wasn't a bowl in the house. To my 
hint that he must be mistaken, he responded 
by bringing up a darkey several shades darker 
than himself, who declared that the bowls were 
all done broken last year. The head-waiter on 
being summoned bowed gravely twice, waved his 
handkerchief, delicately perfumed with anchovy 
sauce, three times, and, as by magic, three slaves 
appeared from out a nebulous cloud of Nubians 
at the lower end of the dining-room, each bear- 
ing a bowl triumphantly aloft on a silver salver. 

This morning, however, they again informed 
me that the bowls were all out — bowled out, I 



My Vacation. 69 

suppose. Now, why n-ot sell that silver and buy 
a few china bowls ? By the way, there can never 
be a better place than this to remark, that Sam- 
uel Bowles is registered at the United States. 

A sort of sea-change has come over the Grand 
Union dining-room. Here, too, you see the foot 
print of the regatta — if a water-bull may be al- 
lowed, and why not when sea-cows cut a conspicu- 
ous figure in natural history .'' Your proper course 
down the dining-room is flagged by relays o^ 
waiters, holding white napkins aloft. The start- 
er at the door gives an initial flirt of his towel 
which fans you down to where you see still an- 
other white flag gleaming in a brunette's raised 
right hand ; for that you steer. Yaw to right or 
left and you're gone — you " foul " a lot of flounces 
and ribbons, or, worse still, sheer square into 
one of the peripatetic crockery crates that ply in 
wild majesty to and from the kitchen, bearing 
what viands and vegetables they don't drop down 
the bosoms and backs of the guests they encoun- 
ter, to patient watchers and waiters already seat- 
ed. This flag-station reached and you are sig- 
nalled to move on to another ; and so it goes till 



yo My Vacation. 

you at last get to the steak, winning tlie plate 
merely by a head — a broken head at that, pos- 
sibly. 

Ah, much do we miss Thompson, so long head 
waiter, or perhaps I should say to preserve the 
unities, stroke oar of the dining-room. He, poor 
fellow, has caught a crab — a bad one — and they 
fear its name is consumption. Never can his 
place at the prow be filled, I fear. A great 
many of the guests have lost their interest in 
eating, now that he's not here to boss the job. 

His was the courtly bow, his the grand man- 
ner. It was something to be passed down the 
long line of heroes, descended from heroes, by 
the wave of his white napkin. Not a waiter in 
the dining-room but knew what that wild wave 
was saying, sister. Like Jullien's baton, the 
wonderful flourish of which defied imitation, no 
successor can take up the napkin when the mas- 
ter lays it down. Emulation is vain ; hang ujd 
the damask alongside the fiddle and the hoe, 
good people. Far be it from me to discourage 
struggling genius, but better let Thompson's 
successor flourish shillalah, for nothing less will 



Afy Vacation. 71 

keep in hand those subordinates who of old were 
held by but his glittering eye and a napkin. 

Think not that a grateful feeling for favors 
in past times received moves me to this tribute. 
On the contrary Thompson was always severe to 
independent journalists, and he snubbed me 
often. One season he refused me a round table j 
the next he took Amos from me ; still another 
season he put me at a table that had only three 
legs to its back. But justice shall be done though 
the ceiling of the dining-room falls. He was a 
wonderful head-waiter. 

To return to the matter of bowls. On Tues- 
day, Wednesday, and Thursday, they dined 5900 
persons at the Grand Union — that is an average 
of nearly 2000 a day. Now it would be man- 
ifestly improper to expect a hotel-keeper to fur- 
nish so many bowls as that. Suppose all should 
take a fancy to call for bread and milk at the 
same time — 2000 of them — why, we'd have to 
run out and borrow bowls, for I don't believe 
there are so many to be had for the buying in 
the world. 

As to other changes in this dining-room, Wil- 



72 My Vacation. 

liam, my old-time friend and waiter, has gone 
back on me, has learned to love another. But 
he consented to be " interviewed " on the piazza 
this morning. A bald spot shows on the top of 
his head, and he's going to marry. In the 
meanwhile he is waiting on a bride and groom, 
who have a private table set for them, that so be 
may learn how to behave himself when he too 
joins the noble army of martyrs. Comfortably 
off he was two summers ago ; now he rolls in 
wealth, which shows how sublime a thing it is to 
wait upon me several seasons in succession. 

Amos is still on hand, and seems to feel as 
friendly towards me as ever. For when he wait- 
ed on me by accident the other day, and I in- 
formed him at the close of the repast that mis- 
fortunes had come upon me financially, and I 
could not give him a douceur, as of old, he look- 
ed really sorry. So, I think, he sympathized " 
with me. 

This season I've not been very lucky at 
table, I never get the same waiter twice. Di- 
rectly I fix one fellow with a dollar, he is trans- 
ferred elsewhere — or I am — and there's a new 



My Vacation. 73 

man behind my chair. There are more men in 
that dining-room, I find, than I've got dollars. 
Here you have the principle of the dear gazelle 
again — a principle which runs all through life— 
also, you have the tree and flower idea. "I 
never nursed," etc. Vide Moore, if you want any 
more of it. 

I sincerely hope that this letter will not get 
into an envelope directed to INIrs. Paul, and that 
the one intended for her will not get into the 
Great Moral Organ. Things are complicated 
enough as they stand. That telegraphed for trunk 
has arrived.- It contains a hundred writing cards, 
a dozen collars, a dozen pairs of cuffs, a dozen 
pocket-handkerchiefs, and not a single shirt. 
Men do not live by collars, cuffs, and handker- 
chiefs alone. I'm no more fit to go into general 
company now than I was before. I don't know 
what you call this ; I call it, REVENGE. 




BANKERS IN CONVENTION. 

CAPITALISTS EITHER POOR OR MEAN HOW A 

PROPOSITION TO PASS ROUND A HAT BROKE UP 
THE CONVENTION THE DIGNITY OF FISHING 

— A children's hop. 

Saratoga, July 22. 
ARATOGA is brimming over with bank- 
ers and brokers, who have come to at- 
tend the Bankers' and Brokers' Con- 
vention which convened on the 20th. That 
you may not buck against them without knowing 
whom you encounter, they wear bhie badges. 
Every delegate displays one, because they are 
given out gratis. A charge of a penny apiece 
would have given the manufacturer a profit and 
made buttonholes less blossoming with blue, per- 
haps. For who would have indulged in an ex- 
travagance so useless ? Surely a man could re- 
member he was a banker without wearing a seton 
of ribbon to remind him of it. 



My Vacatiofi. 75 

" What have you come together for ? " I in- 
quired of a proud milHonaire. 

" Well, to have a good time for one thing," 
he replied. 

Unfortunately two things interfered with their 
having a good time. First, they had no money ; 
secondly, they were too mean to have spent it 
had they had any. When the Convention prom- 
ised to last too long and it became evident that 
neither pleasure nor business was meant, a 
cashier who had a pleasant cottage at Mon- 
mouth Beach and wanted to get back to it, 
proposed a contribution of ten dollars apiece for 
incidental expenses, and passed 'round the hat. 
It was like firing a double-barrelled gun into a 
lot of crows cawing in a cornfield. The Conven- 
tion broke up in wild confusion, amid cries of 
" Put him out," " Deny him the privileges of the 
Clearing-house." " Mash his hat." A prop- 
osition to finish with a dinner this evening was 
carried faintly, few voting, fewer still subscrib- 
ing for it. And it did seem ridiculous, the pro- 
position to waste money on chowder, cabbage, 
pork and beans, and other sweetmeats, when a 



76 My Vacation. 

Chinese puzzle and three cents worth of slippery 
elm will entertain a roomful for a whole evening. 
Capital and I never could agree. Labor and 
it have been antagonistic ever. Money was 
long ago pronounced the root of all evil, and I 
don't like to see it sprout near me. Judge of 
my horror, then, when a broad-brimmed banker 
from Arkansas got up and said his name was 
Roots and insisted on spelling it out in full for 
the benefit of the Convention. What a turn up 
was there, my brethren. Were ever such roots 
played on capitalists before ? And, what a hat ! 
But, as was remarked in the beginning of this 
paragraph, ca^Dfital and labor are very unlike. 
Thus a laborer is worth nothing if he be dis- 
sipated ; capital is of no good to anybody till it 
is. 

The Frenchman who said that the Lord showed 
what he thought of money by the kind of people 
he gave it to, was not far out of the way. 

Fishermen are my friends. Call you fishing 
an ignoble profession 1 Of whom were the 
Apostles chosen 1 Eleven fishermen, if I recollect 
rightly, and only one banker and broker among 



My Vacation. "j^j 

them. No need that I recall the business that 
fellow made of it, the commercial transaction in 
which he indulged ; the sorry way in which he 
discounted his own soul for 30 pieces of silver. 
In these days of inflation and cheap paper money 
the net profit of the transaction may seem small, 
but in that primitive era, before banking had 
assumed its present gigantic proportions, 30 
pieces of silver were not to be sneezed at, and 
Judas probably got the credit of being a shrewd 
driver of a bargain and had a good name on 
'Change. 

Do you wonder that I indulge in this venom ? 
Consider the circumstances. I came here to 
borrow a little money of these congregated 
capitalists. None had any to lend. On the 
contrary, several wanted to borrow of me. One 
of them raked up an old indebtedness against 
me, an indebtedness I had forgotten, and which 
he ought to have. When a bank-balance is 
against one, he may surely be pardoned for losing 
his equilibrium. 

But I must confess to an ardent admiration 
for the perspicacity of the really great banker, 



78 My Vacation. 

personally inconvenient as it often proves. He 
gets at you in a moment, knows if you are to be 
trusted by looking at you, measures you mentally 
and morally by the application of invisible 
calipers. Reads he the indorser on the piece of 
paper which you jDresent ? puts he it to his eye ? 
No, to his nose. Fact. It is recorded of a late 
eminent bank president that a bit of paper bear- 
ing the name of a successful dry-goods man, 
against whose credit never a word had been 
spoken, was once offered him for discount. Mr. 
President took off his glasses and laid them on 
the table ; then he smelled of the paper and 
shook his head. " Too much horse," he remarked 
quietly and laid it down. Further comment 
there was not, neither was there discount of that 
piece of paper. The drawer of it kept 20 horses. 
In less than a month he went all to pieces. No 
need, you see, of a banker's having a good head ; 
all that's necessary is a nose. 

Notwithstanding that the charming coolness 
of the weather would seem to favor it, they do 
not dance here with the vim of former days. A 
few languid fossils go on the floor and keep stejD 



My Vacation. 79 

to the music of the Union, and at Congress Hall 
and the United States a little tame hopping is 
hazarded, but there is not the swing to it of 
fifteen years ago. 

The children had a hop on Wednesday evening, 
and this would have been enjoyable for the 
prettiness of the scene had it not been for the 
reflection that the little dears, hours before, had 
better have hopped into bed. Jonathan Edwards 
is but five months old and at present leads the 
French — his humid nurse from Limerick — 
considerable of a dance. But even when he 
attains to the full dignity of five years, I much 
doubt whether he will be permitted to lead the 
German. Regarding the future of Jona — but 
you know not all this while who and what Jona- 
than Edwards is. I plainly see that I shall have 
to explain this at some future time, for he is 
uppermost in my mind, and mention of him 
crops out when I least mean it. 

A more sensible idea than a children's hop, 
lasting until near upon the small hours, is a 
children's lawn party, and this, Prof. Manuel 
informs me, is down for one of the entertainments 



8o My Vacation. 

of August. A carte blanche has been given him, 
and the grounds of the Grand Union are to be 
decorated with all the resources of art. The 
sight will be worth coming to see. White dresses, 
and pink sashes, and red cheeks, and happy eyes, 
and little feet toddling over the green grass, with 
proud papas and magnificent mammas looking 
on, while Susan, omnipresent in her Swiss cap, 

A perfect woman, nobly planned, 
To comfort, counsel, and command, 

wheels the baby barouche, or clucks her particular 
charge around her; much better this, I should 
say, than an evening hop. If children are to be 
hoppers, let them be grasshoppers. Immolate 
them not to the Moloch of fashion, upon a hot 
and waxen floor, beneath the glare of gas bur- 
ners, and in an atmosphere made stifling by oft 
repeated breathings, but bring them out upon 
the turf, garland their pretty necks with flowers — 
and then do what you will with them, if they 
make too much noise. 



IN RACE WEEK. 

THE RACES — -LUCK— THE CROWD — NEW PHASE 
OF THE SLAVE TRADE — -THOMPSON'S SEASONS 
ENDED— AN EXCLUSIVE SET^BELLES, BANKERS 
AND LIONS ^JONATHAN EDWARDS. 

Saratoga, July 25. 

But Launcelot mused a little space : 

He said, It was a lovely race, 

Though Sharlotte got but second place. 

HAT'S Tennyson ! 

There are few descriptions of a race 
anywhere, in poetry or even in good 
prose — which, after all, is the highest achievment 
of poetic excellence — finer than the one from 
which yon quotation comes. But Tennyson's 
strong suit was describing regattas. Remem- 
ber you the single scull race down the river, the 
dead steered by the dumb, the entrance of Elaine 
against Guinevere and a sort of a dead heat of 
it at the finish ? Somehow I never could read 

that story without emotion ; unless I happen to 
6 




82 Afy Vacation. 

have two handkerchiefs with me I never read it 
at all. 

But, to go on to what I was going to say. For 
a regular race, money ujd and no nonsense, there 
were never two finer races run than the first two 
of to-day — the opening day of this meeting. 
In the first race ten horses ran together so close- 
ly that you could have covered them with a 
blanket almost. In the second race four horses 
ran together so you could have covered them 
with a dinner napkin quite — had it been large 
enough. And in both races the favorites were 
beaten. Further than this I will not duplicate 
the descriptions that will have been before the 
public a month or two before this gets into print. 
But let me illustrate the luck which attends upon 
the heels of some men all through life. The point 
was out to-day to buy on Grinstead's entries — St. 
Martin and D'Artagnan in the first race — it be- 
ing known that Belmont and Puryear had backed 
them heavily. This point somehow prodded it- 
self into the ear of a man who knows nothing 
about either horses or anything else — not even 
railroads. Off he went and bought a big pool 



My Vacation. Z^^ 

on Grinstead — a horse in the second race — for 
fifty dollars, winning thereby about a thousand. 
Got the point stuck in the wrong ear, you see, 
bought another horse in an entirely different race 
and yet made enough to pay his Summer's ex- 
penses out of the mistake. There's no beating 
a man of that brilliant talent ! Again, St. Mar- 
tin didn't start in the first race. A gay old sport 
who had bought a pool on the Grinstead entries 
was furious and vented his indignation publicly 
— it was on St. Martin he had bought, D'Artag- 
nan he would'nt have had at any price ; he even 
offered to sell out at a small profit on what the 
pool cost him and a new hat — which he needed 
badly enough, certainly. Well, while he was 
going round in this way, St. Martin came in win- 
ner, and my shrewd sport picked up something 
over a thousand dollars. Call you this luck 1 
Wrong, friend. Here you have life. 

By the way, Bergh is in the burgh. What for, 
unless to put a stop to the races, I can't for the 
life of me imagine. If roweling a horse's side 
with a spur till the blood spurts is not as bad as 
peppering a pigeon's ribs with bird-shot, I'm no 



84 ^^y Vacation. 

judge of beef. If Mr. Bergh had but done his 
duty this morning and stepped in to stop pro- 
ceedings, he would have saved me money, and to 
his praise this page would have been given. As 
it is, the sport will probably be allowed to proceed 
till I get on a winning horse by some inscrutable 
accident ; then a " squelch" will be put on the 
race when the winner is almost under the string. 
Here you have my luck. 

Saratoga was never fuller and gayer than now, 
I fancy. Parlors, piazzas, streets, alike are full. 
All the hotels complain of being overrun, and the 
Grand Union certainly is, for to my certain knowl- 
edge it has been turning people away for some 
time past. (When a hotel wants me to go it has 
only to present the bill.) Omnibuses rattle up 
and unburden themselves at the doors ; nimble 
hall-boys fly round with whisk-brooms in their, 
hands, eager to brush all the ten-cent pieces out 
of your clothes ; shouts for porter and chamber- 
-raaid echo through chambers and corridors; 
curses on the waiters fizz out, hot and steaming 
through the dining-room windows and in strange 
cadenza mingle \vith the music of Lander; the 



My Vacation. 85 

pool-room is piled high to the ceiling with hippo- 
phagous humanity, and even the springs are so 
crowded that the Dowager this morning only suc- 
ceeded in getting seven glasses aboard before the 
surge that billowed up to the fountain caught her 
upon its foaming crest, and landed her, like a 
huge butter-tub high and dry on the top of the 
sun-dial outside. There she sat like a patient on 
a monument, smiling at lean people. 
• Rivalry among the hotels has ceased, and in- 
stead of spending their spare time in contriving 
how to draw people to them the proprietors now 
meet daily to discuss in earnest council the best 
means of driving them away. With the proverb 
ial ingenuity of inn-keepers, they have already 
hit on some excellent devices for doing it. Pos- 
sibly no adequate reason can be given excusing 
or explaining why the spirit of mortal should be 
proud ; but again there is no reason familiar to 
the common sense of reflecting individuals, why 
the spirit of a proud though erring mortal should 
stand more than a mule, and some day there'll 
be a stampede. I'm comfortable enough, for I'm 
rich. But trading in human beings was always 



86 Afy Vacation. 

abhorrent to me, and long, long before the war, I 
came to the front as a most agitative Abolitionist : 
now that the war is ended, slavery abolished and 
the Civil Rights Bill passed, I don't like to find 
myself obliged to buy a drove of darkies in order 
to get what I want. I have always been in the 
habit of securing a mortgage on one the moment 
I arrive at a hotel, but the possession of a dozen 
is embarrassing. The expense is nothing — I 
never take expense into account when comfort 
is concerned and they'll charge things to me — . 
but the complications are annoying and frequent. 
In an eager desire to be of use to you, one zealous 
servitor takes away the dish which another has 
just brought, and between all these scamp-stools 
your dinner falls to the ground. To-da}^, in par- 
ticular — 

But of to-day let us not speak. 'Twas con- 
fusion worse confounded, and now comes a reason 
for it. Thompson, the old head-waiter, of whose 
dangerous illness I made mention in a previous 
letter, died this morning. The waiters are be- 
wildered with grief, and several times this after- 
noon I have caught the proprietor of the house 



My Vacation. 87 

drying his eyes. " He was a good man and a 
faitliful man, and a most useful man to me," plead- 
ed Mr. Breslin, excusing his tears. Excuse them 
not to me, good friend ; tears oftentimes honor 
those who shed them no less than the ones for 
whom they fall. It is good to see the services 
of one who has filled faithfully and well a position 
comparatively humble, so humanely and heartily 
acknowledged by an employer. A tear on the 
grave of a faithful servant praises the living as 
well as the dead. 'Twill be hard indeed to fill 
Thompson's place. Even while he lay sick, dying, 
the fact that he lived and was not deposed from 
his authoritative place, exercised a controlling 
influence over the untamed barbarians of yon 
Great Sahara of a saloon. Something so the 
spirit of the dead Cid animated his followers, 
each hand grasped its good blade more strongly 
and eyes were steadier and courage higher when 
mounted on his coal black charger, firm in the 
saddle, his helmet plume nodding in the sunlight 
but visor down, dead, the Cid rode through the 
ranks of his army ! 

But though rivalry among the hotels may have 



88 My Vacation. 

ceased to exist, it is by no means extinct among 
the guests. Each prides himself or herself on 
having at his or her house a more exclusive set 
than there is at any other. So Mr. Bowles, wor- 
thy man that he is, one whom you would think 
should be nothing if not Republican, after din- 
ing with me at the Grand Union, assured me 
that they had much nicer people at the States. 
To determine this it became necessary to dine 
with him. Immediately on entering the dining- 
room I saw that he had the right of it. First 
my dazzled eyes lit upon Judge Fitch, at the next 
table sat Jimmy O'Brien. A little farther along 
the battered nose of a veteran ex-pugilist lent 
grace to the picture, and not far removed from 
him you saw the lily face of Benjamin Wood 
paling its ineffectual chalk against the dead 
wlMteness of the wall. After we sat down at 
table Price McGrath pranced past us, and anon 
came a Congressman. This filled out the canvas, 
and I acknowledged with a blush upon both 
cheeks that the States, as compared with our 
hotel, had quite a different set of people. Dis- 
tinction without much of a difference ajl round. 



My Vacation. 89 

Who ever knew a hotel refuse anybody's money? 
Really I should like to find one that would refuse 
mine — for, though by pride the angels may have 
fallen, it has never stood in my way much. 
Things and people will get mixed in life, especial- 
ly at watering places. What says the hymn ? — 
and let it speak also to her : 

Though in this outward world below 
The wheat and tares together grow, 
A threshing day will surely come, 
And then the tares will get teared — some. 

Would you like to know who is here .? This 
brilliant brunette, with complexion warm and 
clear as the tint of a damask rose, hair of her 
own so plentiful that women wonder and men 
admire as she passes, hair that defies any arrange- 
ment other than in those massive coils which so 
well become the wearer ; eyes of a hazel so dark 
that they border upon black, teeth not of the hue 
of pearls, but of a live color, and perfect in form 
— teeth that flash and mean something ; a step 
with a spring in it like that of one of the blue- 
grass racers out yonder in the Kentucky stables ; 
a curve of the graceful neck and a toss of the 



90 My Vacation 

head that show a temper which won't stand 
nagging or bullying — that is the wife of a New- 
York banker, and it is little wonder that people 
ask who 'tis, for a pleasant home and brown 
little gypsies of children occupy her to the 
exclusion, generally, of Saratoga. 

This lady, whose gray hair circles her head 
like a crown, with a complexion fair and soft 
enough for twenty, and with dark blue eyes so 
clear and liquid that, looking into them, you see 
scarce more than sixteen years reflected — unless 
you happen to be fifty yourself ; this lady, who 
looks like a duchess and bears herself like one, 
is the wife of one of New York's most prominent 
lawyers. The lady with her, graceful and willowy 
in form, whose sweet but sad smile arrested 
your attention as we came into the room, enters 
with very little zest into the gay scene around 
her ; she tries to appear interested and amused, 
but you know that her thought is far away, that 
still she bends above a little grave in a distant 
church-yard ; in her eyes you see a longing for 
the touch of a hand that is gone ; in her tones is 
a yearning for the sound of a voice that is still. 



My Vacation. 91 

Together she and the elder lady sit, mother and 
daughter, inseparable ; you seldom, if ever, find 
one apart from the other. 

The young lady of the tall, lithe figure, 
promenading the parlor with her bachelor cousin, 
comes from a pleasant little village nor far from 
Northampton. If you sit on the piazza after the 
lamps are lit, and look into her dark eyes,*young 
man, you do it at your peril. Many a collegian 
of Amherst would have stood higher in his class 
this year had he not yielded to the dangerous 
spell and endeavored to construe a glance in his 
favor when he should have been construing the 
less bewildering gerunds. If not a fickle wild 
rose, she's a wild mountain deer. 

And you really do want to know who that 
other young lady is, slender, if not petite, in form, 
with face that reminds you of a finely-cut cameo. 
The dark hair clustering over her fair brow 
brings out its outlines in stronger light and adds 
to the classic beauty of each feature. Well, that 
pleasant-looking old lady by her side is her 
grandmother. A week and more ago a friend 
and I set determinedly about making the aquaint- 



92 My Vacation. 

ance of the young lady. Thus far we've got no 
further than the grandmother — there we stick. 
So you may as well hang up your fiddle as 
regards any hope of scraping an acquaintance 
in that direction, George Augustus. Where 
respectable married men fail, what have you to 
hope for, young scapegrace ? 

That tall gentleman who would be taller if he 
did not stoop a little, his incisive if not aggres- 
sive head and face thrust slightly forward as 
though to meet you in argument or repartee at 
least half way, his bright keen eye taking in 
everything that passes, yet betraying a kindliness 
in its depths that surprises those who know him 
only by his newspaper savageries, a man whom 
you would at once set down as decidedly out of 
the common, is the editor and proprietor of the 
foremost and best known newspaper of New 
England — The Spr'mgfidd Republican. Is it not 
something to have established a provincial news- 
paper in a. not over promising locality and made 
for it a National reputation ? The slightly grizzled 
mustache and full beard into which the chin 
vanishes with a Vandyckness, as it were, are 



My Vacation. 93 

the gentleman's own, undoubtedly ; I hope I do 
not betray a family secret when I state that the 
full flowing hair, brushed loosely back, is a wig. 

Yon middle-sized man, with red hair and 
mustache, nose on the retrousse order, thick neck, 
a head whereon a skating rink is in rapid process 
of construction, who stands a little lop-sided and 
stutters considerably — is Isaac Sherman, the 
great financier, with whom I am often seen in 
conversation. 

Stop, look, we're in conversation now ! That 
man whom he holds by the buttonhole, the man 
with grave, thoughtful face, short, gray, full 
beard, pleasant smile, black coat, and altogether 
the air of the owner of a square pew in an up- 
town church — that is a man equally eminent as 
theologian and financier — even I. At this pre- 
sent moment we are not talking finance, but 
ventilation ; both our families are suffering from 
sewer gases, and we are preparing to enlighten 
the public on a subject whereon they should be 
enlightened, even if we have to encounter the 
rebuff of sulphuretted hydrogen at every step and 
the wet blanket of fire-damp at every bound. 



94 ^^y Vacation. 

The gentleman in a white flannel suit, all but 
the shirt, which is made of ruffled cambric, and 
the cravat, which is deftly woven of twilled jute, 
is the president of the New-York Stock Ex- 
change. The gray-haired and gray bearded old 
gentleman to whom the president is expressing 
those financial views to which I always listen 
with awe and amazement, is the ex-president of 
a railroad that would stand remarkably high in 
the stock list at present had its shares but gone 
up within the past year as energetically as they 
have fallen. He is fond of euchre, plays a not- 
oriously poor game, and owes me for three 
straight games which he lost, but for all that he 
shouldn't expect a man to let him deal all the 
while. 

That babe with whom the nurse is perambula- 
ting on the back piazza, is — ,no,you reckon without 
your host this time. It is not Jonathan Edwards. 
Jonathan would not take kindly to Congress water, 
I fear and there*are other reasons why he wall not 
visit Saratoga this season — the most prominent 
one perhaps being that his mother won't come. 
Depend upon it you'll never see him wheeled 



My Vacatioji. 95 

round in a perambulator, his nurse standing at 
his back. There's no premium for cross-eyed 
children that I know of, and if there were we 
wouldn't enter him for it thus early in life. 
Scarce a child do you see around the hotel that 
has not a Ben Butler bend about its lamps, all 
because of these infernal back-action perambu- 
lators. And in no respect does the child to 
which you have called my attention resemble 
Jonathan Edwards for Jonathan has the most 
lovely — 

There, dinner ! You must wait to know what 
Jonathan Edwards really is like till another 
time. 



'FINANCE EXPLAINED TO FINANCIERS. 

THE PRINCIPLE OF REACTION ILLUSTRATED 

STOCK OPERATIONS BY THE RULE OF THREE — • 

THE FAILURE OF A LARGE BANKING HOUSE 

FINANCIAL AERONAUTICS COMMODORE VAN- 

DERBILT AND CENTRAL A SUCCESSFUL OPIATE. 

Saratoga, July 27. 




HO will step aboard of your balloon 
now, Mr. Paul ? " asked my financial 
friend, when news came that a great 
firm had failed. 

With fine irony, Isaac persists in calling the 
present system of inflation my balloon. And 
this is the way he always approaches the subject 
when he wants to get at my financial views. 

We were out on the race-course, and I was 
feeling badly. It was not that I had drawn 
Olitipa in a hat pool ; it was not that I had laid 
money on Leander when I should have chosen 
the Countess ; it was not that in the steeple- 



My Vacation. 97 

chase I.took Trouble and had only that and a 
pool-ticket for my pains ; it was none of these 
aggravations that weighed upon me. But my 
spirit was oppressed by the thought that possi- 
bly I had given my financial views in a late let- 
er from Long Branch — very late indeed in get- 
ing into print — prematurely to the public ; 
that I perhaps, had precipitated a panic, involved 
" the street" — possibly some of the sidewalks, as 
well — shattered credits, destroyed confidence, 
moved banks to call in their loans, upset the 
balance of trade, interfered with the iron indus- 
try, done a good many other of the things which 
a man is apt to do if he doesn't shut his teeth 
together and carefully refrain from telling the 
truth. Sooner than have brought calamity upon 
the community in that way I'd have stayed at 
Long Branch, playing croquet on the sand — 
with hearts for balls and fans and clouded bam- 
boo canes for mallets — even until now. 

Sometimes I think I will never write about 
finance again. As for theology that is not for 
me in the future. It is quite enough to be bowl- 
ing down long established houses in this way, 
7 



98 My Vacation. 

without bringing the estabUshed churches about 
one's ears in a rain of brick and mortar. Those 
who can't write without setting folks to thinking, 
and producing social and business convulsions, 
had better either not write at all, or else write 
for The North Americati Review^ where they 
can do no harm. 

Well, Mr. Sherman turned to me — we were 
sitting in the Grand Stand — and wanted to 
know who would step aboard my balloon now. 

" Everybody," I replied, " if only one fool can 
be found to lead." 

A drop of nine per cent in an eight per cent 
dividend-paying stock is a tempting thing. 
People are prone to " buy for a reaction. " 
Sometimes they get it. A friend of mine bought 
Wabash at thirty and it reacted on him so 
severely that within the month he went into an- 
other branch of business entirely — clamming. 
He was always fond of fishing, he says, and he 
finds health as well as a livelihood in his present 
employment. As compared with the trout 
the clam cannot perhaps be called a game fish, 
but then he doesn't react. In this respect he is 



Afy Vacation. 99 

unlike my No. 10 Scott gun. That does. With 
only five drams of powder aboard, and not much 
room to stretch out in, it reacted on me the other 
day to such an extent that I went over and laid 
down on the other side of the lot, and it kept on 
reacting for five minutes or so — kicked me twice 
while I lay on the ground and a third time 
as I was getting up. There's a good deal of dic- 
ing and ornamental work about the stock of 
that gun, and a prettier piece of English wal- 
nut never you saw, but I don't put that fancy 
stock to my shoulder again in a hurry. And I 
don't get behind any fancy stock in the future if 
I can help it. Lady Clipper and Warlock re- 
acted on their riders to-day. Warlock's jockey 
didn't get up as soon as the horse did. I'm not 
riding Warlocks now-a-days so much as I once 
was. One must have long legs when he straddles 
lightning, and then I don't know that he has an 
easy thing of it. 

A friend of mine well known for his philan- 
thropy as well as for the breadth — I might say 
the exceeding latitude — of his financial views (do 
1 violate any confidence in saying right out that 



loo My Vacation. 

his name is Briggs — Chas.F, — ?) has one formula 
by which he figures up in a moment the worth of 
any stock on the market. Thus : " If a New 
York Central Railway First Mortgage bond, 
which only pays seven per cent, per annum, semi- 
annually, is worth one hundred and sixteen, what 
is a canal or telegraph stock worth that pays two 
per cent, quarterly ? Easy enough to get at it." 
And out comes a proof-sheet of an article in a 
religious Journal for figuring paper, and a pencil. 

" A simple problem in the Rule of Three. As 
7 is to 8, so is ii6 to the answer. Here you 
have it — 7 : 8 : : 1 16=^132!. Any stock that pays 
two per cent, quarterly is worth 132I, gentlemen." 

I remember we once operated in South Car- 
olina Januarys and Julys together, Briggs 
and I. Briggs did the figuring and I did the 
buying. They carried on their face six per cent, 
in gold, and sold at 62^4. Briggs's famous 
equation was this : " If New York Central stock 
which only pays 8 per cent, is worth par, what 
ought South Carolina Januarys and Julys that 
pay six per cent, in gold to sell for ? " The gold 
rate fluctuated so frequently that it was difficult 



Afy Vacation. loi 

to make an exact calculation, but where figures 
fail Briggs has a wonderful genius for guessing. 
And he guessed they were worth 85. John Swin- 
ton guessed they were, too, and bought a hat-full. 
Then we went over to Adams'* Express — so called 
because of its irregular leaves, I fancy, — and told 
Gen. Sandford we guessed he had better buy 
some. But he guessed not. I thought he was 
mistaken then, but it has since occurred to me that 
possibly we had the wrong of it. However, do 
not let anything I may have said lead you to be- 
lieve that my friend Briggs has not a great finan- 
cial head. Daboll was a fool to him, so far as 
figures are concerned ; and when it comes to The 
Wealth of Stagnations, or The Origin of Specie, 
the little treatises of Adam Smith and Darwin are 
literally nowhere. 

As I was going to say, Mr. Sherman only 
asked me vdio was going to get aboard of my bal- 
loon, as the simplest way of getting at my finan- 
cial views. 

" Everybody will get aboard of it,'' I replied ; 
"everybody, not excepting Russell Sage." None 
of them want to go up in a balloon exactly; it 



I02 My Vacation. 

isn't a through trip that they contemplate — only 
a little turn. Each man intends to get out before 
his neighbor ; none goes in to stay. The banker 
on this side of the way expects to step safely out, 
and, himself standing on the ground, see the 
banker across the street, who is not quite so 
smart, and will leave a moment later, floating 
about high in air. That the balloon may burst 
before anybody steps down and out, or get away 
with them all before the most timid sees that the 
ropes are frayed, is a contingency which suggests 
itself to none. " It's only for a turn, boys ; the 
gas is all right and with a ' put ' for a parachute 
the fall will be easy to you at the worst — step 
aboard." 

" What do you really think of this failure of 
Duncan, Sherman & Co.?" demanded my friend 
petulantly. " These glittering generalities are all 
very well, but please bring your great intellect 
down to the contemplation of details for a mo- 
ment." 

" Since you wish my honest opinion, I reply 
that the failure of this one house is a trifle in it- 
self considered — a thread of very little importance 



My Vacation. 103 

when separated from the complex web of the pres- 
ent and the future wherewith it is inextricably in- 
terwoven. True, as Briggs says, the failure of 
Duncan, Sherman & Co. will not reduce the ear- 
nings of the New- York Central Railroad or the 
Western Union Telegi'aph in any appreciable 
degree ; it does not in reality make the stock of 
either of those great corporations one dollar the 
less valuable. But that house was one of the great 
depositories of the surplus money of the public. 
Notwithstanding the immense crop of proiDhets 
after the event, which has so suddenly sprang 
into luxuriant life, that house stood a synonym 
for safety. I have never kept any money there 
myself, but I have always thought that if ever I 
had any to keep, to that house I would go with 
it. Now if it suddenly appears that a house 
which so long stood a seeming tower of strength, 
a commercial pillar on which it was safe to lean? 
if it suddenly appears, I say, that this tower, this 
pillar, has been honey-combed for years, dry-rot- 
ted at the base, what are we to think of houses 
of less character and prominence, of houses 
which there is more reason to regard as shaky ? 



104 My Vacation. 

Where are we to jDut our surplus money ? In 
whom are we to trust — I say we, but I mean 
they ; they who have treasures of earth, vile dross, 
filthy lucre, spondulix. National currency, the 
ready ? Suppose all these fortunate ones sud- 
denly make up their mind that a man's money 
is nowhere so safe as in his own keeping, and 
ask for it at about the same time ? The little 
stream that occasionally trickles through the walls 
of a reservoir is of little consequence in itself ; 
it becomes serious only when viewed as an ex- 
ponent of the mighty, but silent and secret force- 
at work behind. As the forerunner of an army 
of waters, the herald of a break in the dam, it 
has a terrible meaning ! At this time, when a 
vast amount of capital is lying idle because of the 
general unwillingness to invest, an unwillingness 
consequent upon a want of confidence in existing 
values, a failure of this kind has rather a serious 
significance. If to the distrust of investments 
you add a distrust of depositories, men may feel 
like putting their money into a dry goods box 
and sitting down on it — then you have a panic." 
" You have alluded to New- York Central sev- 



My Vacation. 105 

eral times, Mr. Paul. Do you not consider that 
a safe security at present prices, Sir ? " 

'■'When you put this question to me point 
blank, Mr, Sherman, my position becomes an 
embarrass mg one. You know the close terms of 
confidential relationship which have existed be- 
tween Commodore Vanderbilt and myself, ever 
since he declared his famous scrip dividend of 
eighty per cent. As he did not inform me that 
he contemplated such a movement, I incautiously 
permitted myself to be caught short of the stock • 
as you can readily imagine a sort of feeling then, 
sprang up between us, a feeling of love on one 
side and respectful admiration on the other 
which continues to this day. When you further 
know that after killing several respectable relative 
of mine above Forty-second-st. before the present 
Fourth-ave. improvements were completed, he 
refused to extend a side track out upon Thirty- 
ninth-st. where an aunt resided whom I could 
well spare, you will understand in some degree 
the obligations I am under to him. Nevertheless, 
common sense, justice, a sense of my own posi- 
tion, a consciousness of what I owe to the world. 



io6 My Vacatioti. 

all compel me to ask of you, calmly and dispas- 
sionately, if New- York Central be worth the 
price it has been selling at for some time jDast, 
why in thunder and the name of a most uncon" 
scionable Congress does it drop several per cent 
on the mere rumor of Commodore Vanderbilt's 
illness ? If it drop on the rumor of his death, a 
rumor so oft repeated that the thing has become 
monotonous, a rumor which no one ever believes 
— how much will it drop when he really does die ? 
And that he will not, cannot, live forever is rea- 
sonably certain, I think. Listen to logic. All 
men must some day die ; the Commodore is but 
a man — therefore some day the Commodore must 
die ! I hope I have proved this fact by a syllo- 
gism too clear and direct to admit of contradic- 
tion — for if it can be contradicted, his satellites 
will be round me in a minute. 'Tis a general 
impression, evidently, that when the Commodore 
dies Central stock will drop from ten to twenty 
per cent. Now that death-day cannot be very 
far distant. He is in his eighty-second year, and 
more signs of failing are evident upon him this 
Summer than ever before. Seldom if ever does 



My Vacation. 107 

he go out to the races ; he falls gently to sleep 
ill the afternoon with a good book either in his 
hand or by his side ; he has reduced the play in 
point-euchre from five dollars to one ; he does 
not disembowel his antagonists so completely as 
formerly. In brief, he shows signs of failure, 
mentally as well as physically. His nearest 
friends watch his health like hawks ; no one in- 
tends to have much Central stock on hand at the 
time of his death, but in the meantime pretty 
much all are willing to trade in it. They take the 
chances of an old man's life. Butafeeble pulse, 
a fluttering breath, only, stand between many an 
operator and beggary ; yet they court the chance. 
To me it looks like skating on thin ice ; but — 
each to his own fancy. Now if New York Cen- 
tral stock be really worth its present price, tell me 
will you, why the Commodore's death should de- 
press it at all t Certainly the taking off of al- 
most any other railroad president you can name 
would be a signal benefit to the road he repre- 
sents. Do men of means, men of influence, men 
of brains, men like myself, in fact, propose to 
wrap the drapery of 2, stock around them and lie 



io8 My Vacation. 

down to dream upon it when its value depends 
so much on an old man's health, to say nothing 
of his life. If the stock had not been watered 
to a most unprecedented degree, if it, like almost 
every other security dealt in at the Stock Ex- 
change, were not inflated, ballooned to bursting, 
would it echo every pulse-beat of its President ? 
sink because he has a dysentery ? rise with 
his recovery ? I only ask these questions, un 
derstand ; I assert • nothing. But it does seem 
to me that only a terribly watered stock could be 
so wildly upheaved by a pain or pimple. If it 
cannot stand to-day on the merits of the road, if 
the direction be incompetent, and all hinges upon 
one man, be that man young or old, I want none 
of it. So with religion when it was claimed 
that its very life hung trembling in the balance of 
Mr. Beecher's innocence or guilt. If there were 
nothing of religion more than that, better far, 
it seemed to me, that the feeble light should 
flicker out at once. But the contrary was true, 
and more than this, I tell you, Mr. Sherman — " 
A deep breathing broke on my ear. I turned 
round to see who'had a fit. There sat my friend ; 



My Vacation. 109 

a programme of the race in his hand and a 
peaceful smile upon his face, fast asleep, with 
his head upon Mr. Stranahan's shoulder — who 
was also asleep. 

" How long have these gentlemen been thus 
comatose ; " I asked of a bystander. 

" Ever since you've been blowing," he whis- 
pered ; " don't stop now, or you'll wake 'em." 

But these are my views of the situation, and 
if the reader sleeps over them he may wake to a 
sad realization of the truth. I am sorry I was 
born this way, knowing nothing about anything 
but theology and finance, but I can't help it. 
Some pork will boil so. 



THE SPELL OF LAKE SARATOGA. 

AN EXCURSION WITH GOVERNORS AND ORTHOGRA- 
PHY THROWN IN KAYADEROSSERAS A LADY 

AT THE SCALES FINANCE. 

Saratoga, July 29. 
EVER before have I been among so 
many Governors as yesterday. In the 
first place, Saratoga is full of Governors 
just now — I didn't suppose there were so many 
Governors in the world : Gov. Curtin, Gov. Hen- 
dricks, Gov. Anthony, Gov. Tilden, Gov. Hoff- 
man, Gov. Aiken — of South Carolina, whose 
memorable remark to the Governor of North 
Carolina, that it was rather a long while between 
drinks, has passed into history — and he of Mass- 
achusetts, who is to be Gov. Rice, then we have 
Gover — but why twist these columns into a long 
string of Governors merely ? Suffice it to say thac 
more Governors are here than you can shake a 
stick at. The occasion which brousfht me into 



My Vacation. m 

immediate contact with them was an excursion 
up the Kayaderosseras (a name with which you 
become quite familiar after spelling and pro- 
nouncing it a few dozen times) in Mr. Frank 
Leslie's steam-yacht. We had the whole string 
of Governors along, except Gov. Hoffman, Gov. 
Tilden, Gov. Hendricks (none of whom care 
much for the Kayaderosseras, but wouldn't ob- 
ject to being President), and Gov. Aiken of South 
Carolina, who preferred to remain and exchange 
suggestions with the Governor of North Carolina. 
As well as the Governors mentioned, we had a 
lot of judges, editors, and ladies with us. Among 
the latter I may mention — as prominent amxOng 
them from first to last — Judge Davies of New- 
York, Judge Dan Dougherty — the Coming Cen- 
tennial orator of Philadelphia, and Editor Bowles 
of Springfield. 

The Kayaderosseras is a small stream, empty- 
ing into Saratoga Lake just above Mr. Leslie's 
grounds. The banks of the Kayaderosseras are 
green with summer grasses, and fringed with wil- 
lows and other trees of beauteous plumage. But 
the chief beauties of the Kayaderosseras are the 



112 My Vacation. 

shadows, the wonderful reflections of cloud, sky 
and bank, green grass and waving willow in the 
depths below. Fairy land is before you, naiads 
are round about ; the enchantment is perfect. 
Have we all been translated, ferried beyond the 
dark flood in this trim little yacht, a disguised 
Charon in the engine-room, and Gov. Rice at the 
wheel .'' Are we among the happy drowned ? Lo, 
here is a world beneath the waters ; a world more 
beautiful by far than the world above. For the 
lights are softer, the shadows darker ; all blots 
and imperfections of the landscape are absorbed 
by the mirror ; only its beauties thrown back to 
you. You long to be a fish ; a red mullet, may 
be ; or, peradventure, a purple perch, that so you 
might browse upon the grasses, glide in and out 
among the submerged groves, climb into the tops 
of the trees to roost, perchance to dream. Un" 
til now I had never heard of the Kayerdos — Kay- 
eleros — Kerdayro — Kaserdos — 

Bless my soul, I've got lost! Let's take a fresh 
breath and begin again. Steady as you go, boy. 

Never until now had I heard of the K-a-y, 
Kay, a, Kaya, d-e-r, der, Kayader, o-s, os, Kay- 



My Vacation. 113 

acleros , s-e, se Kayaderosse, r-a-s, ras, Kayader- 
osseras. There you have it, straight as a string, 
or a mackerel, or the whisky that Governors 
drink — and they wouldn't drink crooked whiskey, 
of course. So enraptured was I with the beau- 
ties of the stream that I contemplated a poem in 
its honor, and indeed began one. But alas ! to 
Kayaderosseras no rhyme but Rhinerosseras sug- 
gesteditself, and there are — or should be — 
bounds to poetic license when the liberty of Mrs. 
King's English is at stake. 

Surely, had the Lady of Shalott only had the 
Kayaderosseras for her magic mirror, never would 
she have complained that she was " half sick of 
shadows." Contentedly she would have sat, 
throwing the shuttle and singing her song, leav- 
ing " towered Camelot" all unheeded. Of the 
sad Lady of Shalott I thought as we floated along 
the river. To the bank I looked, if haply I might 
catch the glitter of the blazoned baldric,-the echo ' 
of the silver bugle, the rapid rataplan of the bur- 
nished hoofs whereon the war-horse trode, of 

bold Sir Lancelot. Even as I gazed 
8 



114 My Vacation. 

From the bank and from the river, 
He flashed into the crystal mirror; 
Tirra lirra, by the river, 
Sang Sir Lancelot. 

Never before was seen so nice a knight of a 
Summer afternoon. But alas ! all that's bright 
must fade ! Another little steamer dashed into 
the little stream — 

Out flew the web and floated wide 
The mirror cracked from side to side. 

Vanished was the enchantmen ! gone were the 
shadows. (From the statement that the Web flew 
out and floated wide, however, do not conclude 
that I jumped overboard.) Patience is a virtue 
which comes with age. The shattering of any 
illusion is simply a disarrangement of surfaces, 
which time very soon sets right again if we only 
trust to his kindly offices. The steamer puffed 
herself away in a "jiffy," the circling ripples of 
her wake sank one by one from sight, and almost 
before we had learned that our world below the 
waters was all unreal, a cheat, phantasmagoria, 
we had it around us again more beautiful than 
ever. The reinstated shadows bowed to us and 



My Vacation. 115 

we to them, and the old-time terms were renewed ; 
again I took a shadow to my bosom, and the 
shadow embraced me back, each thinking — or 
making believe to think — the other real. 

Kayaderosseras — that's a corker for thee, 
good printer. I will not revile, even though 
thou mak'st me spell it a half dozen ways in as 
many lines ! 

The beauty of Saratoga Lake is indeed ex- 
ceeding. And if the fashion of villas upon its 
banks, which Mr. Leslie is spending considera- 
ble money in setting, ever become at all popular, 
Saratoga life will have a new meaning. The 
thing now needed is a narrow-gauge railroad — 
one could be built and equipped for $12,000 or 
$15,000 a mile, and the distance is only three or 
four miles. Then you may depend upon it that 
the tour of travel will be turned hither from Swit- 
zerland — if only tourists can in a reasonable time 
learn to spell and pronounce Kayaderosseras. 

If a railroad ever be built I hope the builders 
will pattern after the elevator at the south end 
of the Grand Union, rather than after the one 
at the north. The former is an express train, 



ii6 My Vacation. 

the latter an accommodation. Married couiDles, 
old maids, and old bachelors take the express. 
It elevates them without loss of time. From 
supper you get to sleep in something less than a 
minute. But the accommodation tarries for 
wood and water at all stations ; it makes a long 
story of every story it stops at on the way up. 
There is ample time for the young man to tell 
the young woman why she ought to marry him, 
and for the young woman to explain the many 
reasons why she won't, long before the end of the 
journey is reached. A hand can be squeezed 
all out of shape between each landing — unless 
it's twice as big as mine. About the exjDress 
there's no such accommodation. Again, they've 
got a sort of a deaf non-conductor on the slow 
elevator. Now, if they'd only select one who 
is blind as well, then, ah then, indeed, if con- 
tentment there be in the world, the heart 
that is humble (and contrite) might look for it 
here. 

But it is dreadful to go up with a young lady 
on the accommodation and find papa, who started 
by the exjDress at the same time, waiting at the 



My Vacation. iiy 

landing, ready to shut down on you like a cellar 
door on a boy's thumb. Talk of a mother-in- 
law's being unpleasant to encounter — it is the 
father in fact who to me is the more terrible 
than an army with banners. 

But there are many beautiful drives to and 
around the lake. One of them is strangely 
like life. For it has ups and downs, now green 
glades and again but barren reaches. Here 
you bowl along right merrily ; there you drag 
in sand and your wheels revolve slowly, wearily; 
worry and enjoyment alternate all through, and a 
sulphur bath awaits you at the end. 

As for bathing in the lake, that can be 
had if you want it. Not exactly such bathing 
as at Long Branch, perhaps, but if for that you 
long, art can supply a counterfeit. For a sum 
comparatively small it were possible to hire a 
laborer to shovel sand into your eyes and ears, I 
imagine, and as for salt water, you might pour 
that down your own throat by the aid of a funnel 
without much outside help, if any. 

The poetry of the lake is hardly complete 
without a beautiful Indian girl, bright Alvaretta 



ii8 My Vacation. 

or somebody else, in a birch-bark canoe. But 
Sarah, the old time belle of the Encampment, 
the only aboriginal woman who could fitly fill 
the bill is married. She is fat, too. The form once 
fairy would now fit the canoe too well and she 
couldn't paddle so well as she could waddle. 
Why do beautiful girls, Indian-bred or Rye, mar- 
ry and get fat ? Anacreon's self couldn't write 
a woman up if she insisted on so pulling the 
scale down. Only two short Summers ago I 
wrote a lyric to this same Sarah. It began ; 

She is young, 

She is fair, 

With a rose on her lips, 

And a rose in her hair. 

How are the lines to be modified to conform 
to present conditions ? Were she a widow 
'twould be easy enough to say : 

Slie is young, 

She is fat, 

With a weed in her mouth. 

And a weed in her hat. 

But she's not a widow — ay di 7ni Alhama 
Sometimes I say in my haste that I will write 



Aly Vacation. 119 

verses no more, but just confine myself to maga- 
zine articles, editorials, and such stuff. 

Apropos of avoirdupois, yesterday a friend 
and myself guessed on the weight of a lady who 
said she had that morning been weighed. My 
friend guessed within a pound ; I hit the exact 
weight to an ounce. He declared that I had 
seen the lady weighed, and would not be persua- 
ded to the contrary though I gave my word. 
Now, to tell the truth about it and explain the 
accuracy of my guess, let me confess ; I did see 
her wade — at Long Branch ! 

The idea of appealing to me regarding a lady's 
weight — though indeed, I ought to know some- 
thing about it, having been made to wait by and 
for them, long and often. But if one knows 
something about anything, it is taken for granted 
that he knows something about everything. 
Because I'm well up on Finance it by no means 
follows that I'm au fait in French. However, 
over on an ojDposite corner is displayed a sign, 
" Moschowitz" — name of fearful sound and dread- 
ful meaning, to husbands — " Dealer in Robes 
and Confections. Why does every one come to 



120 My Vacation. 

me, to find out what is meant by " confections ? " 
I should say at a rough guess that it must stand 
for some sweet thing in bonnets, but I'm not a 
walking Spiers and Surenne for all that. Confec- 
tions in this instance is not sweetmeats, sure. 
The French spell the like of that, confitures. It 
is absurd of them to do it that way, I know, but 
what would you expect of a nation that spells 
h.at c-h-a-p-e-a-u ? They have no spelling-schools 
in France, more's the pity. And I'm afraid that 
a good many of them would have to sit down on 
Kayaderosseras. 

It seems to me there's a change come over 
the lake in one respect — fewer persons are seen 
at Moon's and Myer's. Where they go to is a 
mystery to me. There's quite as much " hitching 
up" as. ever, carriages begin to trundle away 
from the hotels at about four in the afternoon, 
dog-carts roll off on yellow and red wheels as 
usual, but drive out and you do not find the occu- 
pants at Moon's. Follow on and you don't even 
find them at Myer's. You can't find them any- 
where. Not as of old do they sit on the piazzas 
and swallow, as formerly, fried potatoes in a 



My VacatioJt. 121 

gorgeous sort of way. Not as of yore do you see 
two souls with only a single straw and a sherry- 
cobbler between them, looking out upon the 
lake, what time they gaze not one into the other's 
eyes. Sometimes I fancy that here we have the 
beginning of that contraction which Mr. Isaac 
Sherman talks about ; that those who go to 
drive take their own lunches with them, and 
sit on stumps by the road-side, eating cold 
boiled potatoes and cheese, moistening their 
palates perhaps with lager to the manor borne. 

Where this contraction is to end puzzles me. 
Ever since Mr. Sherman began preaching con- 
traction to me, ever since I met him at Long 
Branch, in fact, I've been contracting all that 
I possibly could. I've contracted debts on all 
sides, to say nothing of the contraction of more 
bad habits than you could stack up in a ten-acre 
lot ; but I'm no nearer specie payments or perfect 
bliss than ten years ago — not so near, if anything. 
Impressed with the worthlessness and immorality 
of " rag money," I've got rid of it as fast as 
possible ; have even assisted my financial friend 
in getting rid of some of his, putting it upon 



122 My Vacation. 

French pools in the name of Jonathan Edwards, 
for instance. I've bought neither stocks nor 
real estate, for Sherman has so shaken my confi- 
dence in values that I do not intend to throw 
money away on perishable property when split 
bamboo fly-rods can be had for forty-five dollars 
apiece. Still, stocks keep going up, and I can- 
not yet afford to go fishing. 

Last Sunday instead of going to church I 
foolishly went over to the United States and 
heard a lot of big bondholders — the Hon. Chester 
Chapin, the Hon. Richard Lathers, and my 
Gamaliel, Isaac Sherman — discuss finance. They 
proved plainly that the poor are the creditor 
class, the rich the debtor class, contrary to the 
common idea about it. But at the end of the 
conversation I couldn't ascertain that any one of 
the three capitalists who took part in it owed 
me anything. An indebtedness existed by their 
own proving, but the only one who put his hand, 
into his waistcoat pocket was the Hon. Mr. 
Lathers, and that was to take out Adam Smith 
on Political Economy. President Chapin didn't 
even by way of squaring accounts offer me 



My Vacation. 133 

a pass over his railroad, I'd have called it 
even at that; every one else perhaps would 
have called it odd. Sometimes I think I'll 
abandon finance altogether and devote myself to 
French. 



THE SELFISH SARATOGIAN. 

WHAT CONSTITUTES A BORE THE MAN WHO 

WANTS TO SLING HIS SCIATICA AT YOU WHEN 
YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOUR RHEUMA- 
TISM — AT CROSS PURPOSES WITH A YOUNG 
LADY. 

Saratoga, Aug. i. 
fOME one defines a bore as The man 
who talks about himself when you want 
" to talk about yourself ! 
Saratoga is full of these wretches, this season. 
I came here prostrated by overwork, suffering 
from inflammatory rheumatism, tortured by inop- 
portune neuralgias, unable to eat, drink or 
sleep, and quite sure that I had some chronic 
affection of the heart, to say nothing of minor do- 
mestic afflictions which frequently caused me to 
turn wistful eyes towards that burn from which 
it is said that " no traveller returns." Among 




My Vacation. 125 

the many friends here sojourning it seemed that 
I must find sympathy; my Uvid imagination 
pictured the long piazzas as Uned witli rows of 
yearning acquaintances sitting backward tipped 
in tlieir chairs but with ears cocked forward 
and laps all spread for me to approach and pom- 
out my woes. 

Well, what was the disappointing fact ? Imme- 
diately on arriving I sought out Dusenbury — 
rather, perhaps, I may say that I saw Dusenbury 
his feet comfortably and decently elevated on 
the top rail of a chair, seemingly laying back for 
me. Him I approached, bearing with me, as a 
sort of propitiatory offering a Reina Victoria (of 
that brand whereof you can only get two for a 
half, though you take a dollar's worth), which 
he accei^ted without the least hesitation or 
symptom of mental confusion. Nay, more, he 
asked after my health, and took the last match 
I had, in the kindliest way. Then conversation 
began. But barely had I set forth how a cold 
had come upon me in the Spring, a cold which 
finally settled down all over me, and of late 
had excited the apprehension of friends — many 



126 My Vacation. 

of whom were fearful that it would not carry me 
off — barely had I got that far — not a word yet 
about my rheumatism — when he began on me 
with his sciatica. I couldn't get my shoulder 
blades in edgeways. Such an egotistical ass I 
never saw in my life. Politeness compelled me 
to sit still and listen to him, but on another oc- 
casion of the kind I shall rise and excuse myself, 
at the risk of being considered rude. Why, by 
the way he went on you w^ould have thought 
that I came to Saratoga wholly to hear about 
his cursed sciatica — which I do hope will tie him 
up in a double bow-knot before it has done with 
him — when the fact is that my only object in 
coming was to tell him about my rheumatism ! 

So it is all through. Last evening I prome- 
naded with a young lady in whom I fancied I 
ha-d found a congenial soul — feuie-sole — but dis- 
appointment was again my doom. The Perfidy 
of Man was my theme, and a flagrant instance, 
in which I had been the victim, was in my mind. 
Of course, I began by advancing a general prop- 
position as to the Perfidy. Her dark eyes turned 
upon me like — ah, have you ever stood by a 



My Vacation. 127 

still mountain lake and looked down into the 
shaded depths ? And what saw you ? Well, 
looking into this young lady's eyes I saw myself 
mirrored there, it seemed, and when one sees 
one's self in another's eyes he is apt to think that 
sympathy is shining all around and the rest of the 
story is as easy as rolling off a log. So I went 
on about the Perfidy of Man. And she pressed 
my arm at particular passages, while deep sighs 
agitated her tumultuous tulle. When I spoke of 
the woe which possesses the human soul when it 
finds that it has pursued a cheat, a phantasm, 
has held that as true which is really falser and 
more fleeting than the ringlet born of a hot pipe 
stem, collapsing and straightening out like a 
shoe-string on the first approach of wet weather 
— when I spoke of this the double box-trimming 
on her breast rose and fell like the waters of a 
canal when a deep laden boat, drawn by a pair 
of spirited mules, plows madly over the surface 
and stirs up the bullpouts and catfish. 

" Oh," she cried, " then you know all ? I had 
thought of speaking to you about it, but was re- 
strained by the fear that you might think me for- 



128 My Vacation. 

ward and unmaidenly, so I kept the secret (for 
secret I supposed it to be), and would not have 
spoken about it at all had I not discovered by 
your absorbed air and the confidence bestowed 
upon me this evening that you have detected 
his duplicity, and that I might come to you as 
to a brother and say — " 

"Yes," I said, "to tell the truth, I have 
longed for this moment. It has, indeed, seemed 
to me at times that without some relief in words 
— for men of my stern temperament, alas, are 
shut off by imperative custom from the relief of 
tears, debarred, sad to say, from the mitigation 
which weeping brings to lesser minds— I must 
fidget, fade, evanesce, droop, die ; — aye, pass in 
my chips, dear friend. For when it first flashed 
upon me that the false Fairtuther — " 

" But his name is not Fairtuther, it is Dionysius 
Roberto DiffendrofTer, and his behavior was 
such that it led mamma and me to believe — to 
believe — and now — now — oh, I shall die, I know 
I shall, for everybody must be talking about it, 
and that hateful Semantha Semithers says — 
boo-hoo-boo-hoo-boo-hoo !" 



My Vacation. 129 

Beauty was dissolved in tears, and the true 
state of the case became apparent in a moment. 
While I had been inveighing against the perfidy 
of man in general, meaning my man in particular, 
and imagining that at last I had found a lofty 
spirit, which could leave the diminutive delights 
of the drawing-room, the poor plane of the 
parlors, and walk with me in the sublimated 
ether of my own experiences, verily the young 
woman was busy with her own wretchedness, 
was but brooding over a frivolous and uninteres- 
ting flirtation in which the birch-bark canoe of her 
affections came to grief and wreck upon some 
insignificant snag or sawyer known in the shallow 
waters around as Dionysius Roberto Diffen- 
droffer. 

9 



MINOR MANNERS AND MORALS. 

CELESTIAL PHENOMENA ; RINGS IN HEAVEN 

QUIDDING AND QUOTING— CONTRACTION UNDER 

DIFFICULTIES FASHIONS IN WEAR OF WOMAN'S 

HAIR— A PLEA FOR THE WAITER AND CHAMBER- 
MAID. 

Saratoga, Aug. 3. 

" Last night I saw the old moon, mother, 
With the new moon in her arms." 




OT that exactly, but last Sunday we 
did see something which quite as certain- 
ly portended foul weather. A great 
luminous ring, glowing with all the opaline lights 
and tinted fires of a rainbow, surrounded the 
sun. And not far distant from the first, but 
totally distinct, a second and a third ring hooped 
great disks of heaven in. 

The sight was strange to me, and the oldest 
inhabitant with whom a special interview has 



My Vacation. 131 

been had apropos of the phenomenon, answers 
all who ask that never before has he seen any- 
thing of the kind. He thinks it a harbinger of 
the discovery of another mineral spring. Various 
explanations of the phenomenon have been had 
on all sides. One gentleman who had just 
taken an unusually large draught of Hathorn 
water, thought that v/e but saw the iridescent 
ghost of Andy Johnson swinging round a shining 
centre in infinite space. It has been very 
universally remarked that 'tis little use to break 
up rings here on earth if they are to be inaugurated 
above, and that it is hard lines indeed if one 
cannot get to heaven without the intervention of 
a ring. A scientific gentleman from Georgia 
said that the phenomenon was wholly due to an 
aggregation of watery particles in the atmosphere, 
an aggregation which, conglomerating around 
the sun, absorbs its scintillations, and so by a 
very simple and well known law of refraction, 
causes a disintegration of — of — 

I don't remember exactly what, but if there's 
any virtue in polysyllables it must have been 
something nice, and everybody has reason to be 



132 My Vacation. 

satisfied. It is not quite clear to me, however, 
that I caught the idea exactly. 

But to-day we all know what was meant It is 
dark, cold, rainy. The piazzas are deserted and 
folks sit indoors, listening to music in the parlor, 
where cheerful fires are lit. The race set down 
for to-day is postponed, and on all sides you 
hear the remark, " What a dreadful day ! " Not 
so to my thinking. The darkened sky gives 
grateful relief from the glaring sun, which for 
days and days has hung over-head ; and to see 
the streets empty for once is pleasant. Then, 
on a day like this, one can go to his room and 
indulge in moral reflections or write a confusing 
article on finance. 

I've been morally reflecting all the morning, 
my own shortcomings the theme. It seems to 
me that my most besetting sin is the habit lately 
acquired of beginning all serious essays with a 
line or two of poetry from some high old bard 
vvhose distant footsteps echo down the cullenders 
of Time. Quoting is like chewing, I fancy — the 
habit once acquired is indulged in unconsciously. 
So confirmed has it become upon me that I 



My Vacation. i^^ 

really am not happy unless I have a quid of a 
quotation in my mouth. It matters little what 
the brand. If the Solace of Whittier be not 
handy, Emerson's Fine Cut will serve; failing 
that, Bryant's Century, Longfellow's smooth 
Cavendish, or Stedman's Honey Leaf come to 
be rolled like sweet morsels between my lips ; 
in default of other chews or choice I even essay 
to gnaw upon the plain plug of Walt Whitman. 
This habit must be amended— and I have made 
a note of it accordingly. 

My mother bids me bang my hair. 

Or does the poet say " bind .? " If their mothers 
bid them do it, the girls are excusable— for girls 
should mind their mothers in little things, so as 
to earn the right to do just as they please when 
big differences come up— but if not they deserve 
to have their heads banged for their pains. There 
is nothing graceful in the fashion, every principle 
of art is violated, nothing of nature — except a 
suspicion of ill-nature, perhaps — is suggested. 
For the man who is bald way to his ears and half 
way down his back as well, to bang his hair for- 



134 -^^y Vacation. 

ward and so conceal the ravages of the moth and 
vandal as well as he can, may not be morally 
wrong, but the girl of the period should pause on 
the precipice of the forehead, if she do not come 
to a full stop. If you bang your hair, fair maiden, 
why not wear bangles as well ? Both wears are 
Oriental. The Chinese virgin bangs her nut- 
brown hair over her almond eyes as a sign and 
symbol ; the bang is a badge of maidenhood, 
corresponding to the snood of the Scottish lass. 
The Buddhist bangs you a bang for use and not 
for ornament. 

But bad as this imported fashion is, I do in- 
deed think it preferable to the plastering down 
of the hair in wavy lines and scollops so much 
affected by women of the day.. They think it 
nice, undoubtedly, but it looks nasty, and one 
thinks but of glue and gum as he gazes. A 
style more unbecoming to the contour of the 
human face could not be devised by the most 
diabolical ingenuity. The idea of thus plaster- 
ing down what was intended to be free and 
flowing, of arranging in set scollops that the 
charm of which consists in its very unconfined- 



My Vacation, 135 

fiess and irregularity, of depriving the crowning 
glory of a woman's head of all its life and spirit, 
is repugnant to all the canons of good taste. 
Out upon you, women ! Why will ye thus deface 
the temples which the Almighty made 
beautiful ? You ask to be allowed to vote, 
clamor for admittance into colleges, demand 
that you shall assist in the making of laws, 
knock at the doors of the learned professions^ 
and growl if they be not opened unto you, shriek 
out to the stars a wild complaint about being 
downtrodden, and yet come gotten up in this 
most outrageous guise ! Think ye to fill the cham- 
bers of the brain with languages and ologies ? 
Why not learn to arrange the (?z<fAside of your 
heads decently and becomingly before bothering 
much about the /// 'J If you must scollop some- 
thing, scollop your brains, good sisters ; plaster 
them down in fanciful curls and quirls ; but let 
your hair float free. Glue your morals to the 
the mast, if need be ; gum your manners into 
symmetrical curves and angles, but let your locks 
have a comfortable looseness of look. Pretty 
pictures you'd be, indeed, parading to the polls, 



136 My Vacation. 

prancing about in the pulpit, blustering at the bar 
swinging the scalpel in the dissecting-room with 
banged or scolloped hair! I'm not a savage but 
never do I see a woman with her hair so arrang- 
ed that there does not come upon me an eager 
desire to scalp her, to part her hair properly in 
the middle — with an ax ; either to murder her 
or marry her to a barber. 

Now, I shall leave by an early morning train. 
Wrath at the way these women fix their head- 
gear has been seething deep down in my coppers 
for some time, and, at last it has boiled over. 
The result may be foretold. My hair would be 
scolloped before another sun set on Saratoga did 
I remain ; on me would the women all sit down 
severely ; not those who scollop their hair only 
— the whole female tribe would be my enemies 
in the future. Attack one woman for a folly, 
and do you not challenge all .? For if a woman 
do not scollop her hair, the chances are that 
she does something else equally bad or much 
worse. Encourage a man to make a raid upon 
one folly, and who of the sex would be safe ? 
Criticism must be suppressed, all advice repelh 



Afy Vacation. 137 

ed; the whole female brigade must form in hol- 
low square and bristle on every side with bayonet- 
thrust of action and saber-cut of speech, or the 
line is carried, and the traditional right of 
woman, which dates back to the fig leaf, to dis- 
figure herself at her own sweet will, becomes a 
figment purely of the past. In this banding to- 
gether for defensive purposes the sex are move- 
ed by a spreedecore, perhaps, a spree which 
began with the eating of the apple by the prime- 
val pair and continues on even down to the pre- 
sent miscegeneration. Thus, if I pitch into a 
foolish virgin from Virginia, who sits with the 
motto of her State — a Sic simper — on her face 
from dewy morn to silent eve, some maiden from 
Maine invariably rushes to the rescue, eager to 
shiver a pine lance in defense of something or 
some one she knows and cares nothing about. 

This moral reflecting, with steam turned on 
in the heaters, and gas-pipes which simulate hick- 
ory sticks burning brightly in the parlor grates, 
is very pleasant. The cold and rainy weather 
of to-day is, indeed, in strange contrast to the 
sunniness which has been the rule until now. 



138 My Vacation, 

In this climatic change Isaac Sherman thinks 
we have the contraction which he has been fore- 
telHng. For cold is contraction, sunshine ex- 
pansion, he says, and the signs of the times are 
visible on all sides. In an aquarium yesterday 
a mud-turtle drew his head into his shell, when 
Mr. Sherman poked him with a cane. " Wise 
fellow," said my friend ; " he sees the necessity 
of contracting." The waiter this morning 
brought the Great Contractor a beefsteak, about 
as large as a lead pencil and rather thinner than 
a wafer it was. " Isn't this a little too thin ? " 
he asked, in expostulating tones. Bat when 
Scipio Africanus explained that this was but the 
beginning of a healthy and inevitable contraction, 
and that the day was rapidly dawning when that 
beefsteak, now scorned for its size, would seem 
comparatively as big as a dinner-platter, my 
friend seemed satisfied. Not so the waiter, how- 
ever, when the Contractionist of the Period 
handed him a ten-cent piece instead of a quarter, 
and, after this practical illustration of his hobby, 
mounted it and rode to Washington and back. 
I may be wrong about it, but I fancied that 
Scioio looked black when we left him. 



Jfy Vacation. 139 

The boys of the dining-room do not like con- 
traction : they can see no necessity for it and 
no fun in it, either. Just as much money in 
the world now as ever : all very well for Massa 
Sherman to talk 'bout rag-money, but it buys 
dry goods pretty good : men's stomachs do not 
contract at all ; takes just as much to fill'em as 
ever, they urge. In the face of all these facts 
their perquisites are cut down : they still have 
to feed the many, but seldom get feed them- 
selves in return, and they won't stand it much 
longer,' they say. 

After faithfully trying it on for a week or two, 
I am free to confess that contraction in the 
matter of tipping the dining-room boys doesn't 
work well. The result of such an experi- 
ment is a long while to wait and nothing to 
eat. I contrived a rather neat way of flanking 
the difficulty, securing, as one might say, the 
consideration bestowed upon a cheerful giver 
without bringing upon myself the impoverish- 
ment consequent on really giving, by taking 
one of the new fifty-cent pieces ostentatious- 
ly from my pocket and putting it conspicu- 



140 My Vacation. 

ously under an inverted tumbler. Magnified 
by the convex bottom of the glass it looked 
larger then a dollar. Dinner came as by magic ; 
fish followed upon the soup with the celerity of 
indigestion after cucumbers, and at the fish's 
tail came a long and a glorious procession of 
roast meats, entres, vegetables, and several 
kinds of dessert— whipped creams and the like. 
(If every one had his dessert, as Shakespeare 
says, few creams would 'scape whipping!) Well, 
there never was better service than I got for a 
while. Then, when dinner was done, I did the 
waiter who brought it, by quietly taking the 
National currency from under the tumbler and 
returning it to my pocket, counseling William, 
as I arose from the table, not to sink any money 
which others might give him in French pools. 
But you can't play a spot ball of that kind more 
then a certain number of times. They come to 
know you after a while, and then it would be 
though.t that your table had the small-pox, by 
the way the boys in black avoid it. So I had 
to return finally to the old-time plan and pa) 
honestly and squarely for all service rendered. 



My Vacation. 141 

Why should one not ? What is the use of 
standing on a point of principle and going 
hungry in the midst of plenty ? Better follow 
the custom of the country and do as others do. 
The expenditure involved is small ; the incon 
venience entailed by an avoidance of it is great. 
Perhaps it is wrong to bribe a waiter to bring 
you that for which you pay the landlord. But 
take another view of it ; place the transaction 
on a different basis. You never refuse yourself 
the pleasure of " treating" a friend because it 
costs you something. Just consider Amos, 
William, or any one of the boys your friend, 
and " treat" him accordingly. Instead of fool- 
ing quarters away in drinks for those who need 
them not, place them where they will do the 
mosr good to yourself as well as to others. " They 
also serve who stand and wait" — let the waiters 
have a little loose change once in a while. 
Here is the chamber-maid, too, who assiduously 
hides your slippers where you can't find them ; 
turns your night-shirt wrong side out most care- 
fully before putting it away ; fills the match-safe 
with once-used matches ; piles the papers, which 



14.2 My Vacation. 

you have carefully separated, into one promiscu- 
ous heap ; forgets to fill your pitcher; dissiiDates 
mildly upon your hair oil — refuse not to make 
this chamber-maid happy occasionally by a slight 
remembrance. A greenback will be green in 
her memory forever. Avail yourself not of the 
old injunction, " Be just and fee 'er not," but 
pay over your money and look pleasant. So 
shall your days be long in the hotel, and so 
shall not your nights be sleepless. For the 
chamber-maid can smuggle broken crockery in- 
to the mattress if she choose, and the sheets 
can be made to bristle with hair-pins as by ac- 
cident. 

But it is dreadful weather for a garden party, 
and I think a postponement of it is inevitable. 



MY SON. 

JONATHAN EDWARDS EXPLAINED DISAPPOINT- 
MENT OF MRS. PAUL ON FINDING THAT THE 

GIRL WAS A BOY CONFUSION OF NAMES A 

baby's FONDNESS FOR EXERCISE AND LACK OF 

MORAL SENSE MY SON AS A HUMORIST HIS 

TEETH AND HIS TROUBLES. 

Saratoga, Aug, 5. 

]S I remarked in my last, it is dreadful 
weather for a garden party For two 
days past it has rained incessantly, and 
now, on the day appointed for the fete, it pours 
in torrents. My invitation reads ; " Ladies and 
gentlemen are politely requested to dress in a 
manner suitable to the occasion. Ladies in walk- 
ing dresses of light and gray colors : parasols of 
various colors." 

Nothing could be more " suitable to the occa- 




144 ^^y Vacation. 

sion " than rubber boots and waterproof jacket 
— not a very picturesque get up, perhaps,but if 
the ladies also wear umbrellas of various colors 
the effect will be pleasing. And the substitution 
of umbrellas for parasols would not be a serious 
departure from the idea of the invitation, I fancy. 
But the indications are that our garden party 
will be postponed. On some sides a disposition 
is evinced to have it come off weather or no, but 
this feeling is noticeable mainly among the 
bachelors of the hotel, who, it is strongly sus- 
pected, would not object to a general drowning 
of the babies. Yet, of the two, which is of 
greater use in society, to say nothing of orna- 
mentation,' bachelor or baby .'* The floor is open 
to any mother who would like to reply. 

The amount of patience which we bring to 
bear on babies depends very much on whether 
or not we have babies of our own. There was 
a time when I would have joined heartily enough 
in gentle Ella's traditional toast, " To the 
health of the much calumniated good King Her- 
od." But that was before the advent of Jona- 
than Edwards. 



My Vacation. 145 

'Tvvas a bitter cold day in February when Jon- 
athan Edwards arrived — the bitterest and cold- 
est day not only of the winter, but the bitterest 
and coldest since 1820, the chronicles said. 
And to be roused at an unseemly hour on such 
a morning, and started off on a most embarrassing 
and unnaccustomed errand, is enough in all con- 
science to disturb the spiritual balance of a ner- 
vous man for the rest of the day. 

It was some time before I could muster the 
courage to ask whether I was a father or a 
mother — not that I had no curiosity about 
it, but because the treatment which I had for 
some hours undergone made it a question in my 
mind whether I had any rights which any hu- 
man being was bound to respect, when a rather 
raised and indignant voice replied, '' She's a 
boy." I felt that the supreme moment of my life 
was at hand, and that fortitude was necessary. 
For a most serious complication had come, trou- 
ble loomed darkly on both bows as well as dead 
ahead ; of this I was aware, even before I caught 
the soft gray eyes of Mrs. Paul fixed reproach- 



146 My Vacation. 

fully upon me. We had half promised one lady 
friend that it should be named Louise ; another 
was happy in the conviction that we were to call 
it Caroline ; but deep down in the recesses of her 
heart Mrs. Paul had settled that the girl should 
bear the name of a great (and good) aunt, and 
glide gently down the stream of Time ticketed 
'' Dorothy Jane." You see the dilemma ; all pre 
vious plans were disarranged — none of the names 
would now do. And thus it is that to this day 
the babe has but a no7n de berceau, as 'twere — 
Jonathan Edwards. The fault is not mine, cer- 
tainly ; but never a day passes over my head 
that it is not flung up to me that but for me the 
babe would have a name. And with each re- 
curring dawn the question is hurled at me, 
'' What do you mean to call him, anyway 1 " 

Sometimes I think of shaking a lot of good 
names up in a bag and letting him grab for one, 
so shifting the responsibility from my own shoul- 
ders to those of the Fates. Again, it occurs to 
me that perhaps 'twere only right to wait till he 
grows up, and then let him choose a name for 
himself ! 



My Vacation. 147 

In the meanwhile the boy seems to grow and 
thrive as well as though he had been christened 
George Washington or Julius Caesar at birth. 
For his own part, he has never, from the first, 
shown much care about being named. On ar- 
riving at the hotel he made no sign from which I 
can infer that he was anxious that the register 
should be brought up to him. Lately from the 
tropics, a hot-air register would not have been 
unacceptable, perhaps ; but as for immediately 
writing his name and place of residence, and 
final destination, down in a book, he manifested 
no eager ambition. His chief anxiety was about 
meals. Here was a hotel kept on the Euro- 
pean plan, meals supposed to be ready at all 
hours, yet there seemed to be nothing ready for 
him. Little wonder that he set up a wail of 
vexation. 

WHiat a hurry and scurry there then was in 
the hall, to be sure ! No need to carry the news 
to Mary ; she and Nora, Bridget, Kathleen, and 
Kate knew it as soon as anybody; and they 
must have trumpeted the story through the 
resonant speaking-tubes, which lead all over the 



148 My Vacation. 

house. For, verily, the chambermaids who came 
with dust-pans, and the firemen who came with 
coal-scuttles, and the bell-boys who came with 
pitchers of ice-water, were a sight to see. That 
they looked for largess bee use of what had hap- 
pened, that they expected gratuities, cannot be, 
for they asked for none. But they offered fervid 
congratulations, and lingered round after they 
had spoken them, when there really remained 
nothing more to be said. Even the sparrows 
knew all about it, and came hopping upon the 
window-sill and pecking at the panes, not with 
an eye to crumbs, I am sure. Then, when I 
came to walk down town in an hour or two, 
the people in the omnibuses and on the street 
corners and in the club windows were talking 
about it and looking at me. " See ! that's the 
father of the baby just born at the Quillsey 
House ; there he goes ; don't he feel mighty 
fine," they said — ^just as though a baby had nev- 
er before been born. But the marked attention 
so liberally bestowed pleased me : not that I my- 
self had any foolish vanity ; but was it not a 
compliment to My Son .? Both nurse and doctor 



My Vacation. i49 

said he was a fine boy, but when I came to make 
a critical examination of his legs, they distressed 
me. They seemed dreadfully bow. But this, I 
was told, is a peculiarity of babies. (Perhaps 
the bow shape is given so that they may lie by 
the hour and fiddle away at their heads, when 
they've nothing better to do.) His ears, too, in 
the dim religious light of the chamber, looked 
like crumpled rose-leaves. These latter are all 
smoothed out now, but in his legs I still see a 
funny sort of parenthesis. Experts assure me 
that they'll straighten out in time. I don't much 
care whether they do or not— they'll be handy 
just as they are when he comes to ride nail-kegs. 

Sprawling about on a blanket, looking some 
like an under-boiled crab, more like an overdone 
cherub— this, then, was My Son ! Here was the 
heir of much of my fortune and all my greatness, 
wrapped up in a square of cotton-batting no 
larger than a pocket-handkerchief There had 
been long months of weary waiting and ardent 
expectation, most elaborate preparation had 
been made, and here was the mouse ! 



150 iWy Vacation. 

Looking at this shrimp of humanity, swaddled 
like a miniature mummy, little did I imagine the 
power which there lay latent ; little did I dream 
that those tiny arms — scarce larger than a pipe- 
stem — would in time come to pull me hither and 
thither, I powerless the while, as though swayed 
by the horses of Thrace ; that they would hold 
me back from my amusements, fetter me when I 
wished to work, keep me in doors when it was 
my. will to go out, drive me out when I wished to 
stay in. But beho»Id me now, the slave of that 
molecule's whim, the veriest creature of his 
caprice ! If he holds out his little hands to me, I 
must needs drop whatever I am busied with and 
take him. Work may stand still, but his sweet 
will may not be thwarted. And he is the veritable 
Old Man of the Sea. Once mounted on my 
shoulders, I cannot dislodge him. He likes 
walking ; exercise of that kind does not seem 
to tire him at all. I think he could survive be- 
ing carried round the room till the ceiling fell in 
— his talent for that sort of thing is wonderful. 
Nor does he ever tire of the great moral drama. 
When I crawl about the floor on all fours, bark- 



My Vacatiofi. 151 

ing like a dog and arching up my back like a 
cat, he applauds vehemently. So when I bang 
my nose against the door, in an awkward effort 
to play bo-peep for his amusement — so, too, 
when I dance round the room on my head to 
show him how he'd look upside down — on all 
these occasions he is not sparing of plaudits, and 
he never fails to express his wish that the play 
should go on. Already I've worn out several 
pairs of trowsers, and am looking round for new 
properties — a false nose and a wig, for instance. 
I have spoken of My Sou as the Old Man of 
the Sea, but this was figuratively. At first coming, 
though, with his weazened face and wrinkled 
ways, he really did seem to be but a little old 
man. When he scowled at you, the suggestion 
was striking. As for interest in things around 
him, he had none. He had not the air of one to 
whom the world was new, but rather of one to 
whom it was tediously old, and neither amusing 
nor instructive. Even at the patent silver door- 
knobs, that wouldn't move when you turned them, 
and at the bright bell-pulls, that wouldn't ring 
when you pulled them, he looked as though he 



152 My Vacation. 

had seen modern improvements before. If you 
spoke to him, it attracted his attention not at all ; 
just an indifferent gaze he gave you and turned 
wearily away, as though occupied with matters 
of greater moment. A joke was worse than 
thrown away on him. Though every one else 
might laugh, he but looked up at the ceiling and 
yawned, as who should say, " These jokes may 
do very well for you down here, but up there 
where I come from they have much better ones." 
Yet all the while it was plain that he was a first- 
class humorist. At times he would lie for an 
hour smiling away within himself in the funniest 
fashion ; catch him at it, and he became grave 
at once. It was as though he thought that that 
which amused him was too far beyond our com- 
prehension for him to attempt to explain it to us, 
and he did not wish to be thought frivolous, so 
he checked his smile 

The little sense of moral obligation that a 
baby has is a marvel to me. That he has any 
duties in life never occurs to him. In the pre- 
sent only he lives, with an idea evidently that 
nothing is expected of him but to grow. Where 



My Vacation. 153 

his dinner comes from matters not to him, so 
long as he gets it. Though it may be that the 
milk whereon he rioteth belongeth of right to 
another baby, the ethical question which at once 
ariseth troubleth him not. He is reckless of re- 
sults. Nor am I certain that he is not profane. 
When he mutters to himself in an unknown 
tongue, on being forbidden something for which 
he has alonginghow do we know that he is not 
swearing ? Possibly, however, he is only preach- 
ing to an ideal congregation, and is terribly in 
earnest over it ; sometimes, in a real church, with 
a real clergyman, you know, we might, from the 
manner, think he was cursing us, if we did n't know 
what was being said. But the harangues to which 
Jonathan Edwards occasionally treats us are ex- 
cessively funny. He becomes animated, and his 
gesticulation is rapid and expressive. " If we 
had another baby here don't you think he'd know 
what this baby is saying ? " asked little Hal, one 
day, while we were listening to one of the in- 
fant orator's fervid exhortations. 

Perhaps you wonder how we came to call him 
Jonathan Edwards. Truth to tell, I hardly know 



154 ^^y Vacation. 

myself. But the name somehow seemed to fit 
him. His face had a gravity seldom found in 
o-ne so young. He had a judicial air, too, as 
though in his own mind passing on momentous 
theological questions. Pleasant his expression 
was, but to some extent severe. And this same 
air of dignity which characterized his infancy 
he still preserves at the ripe age of seven months. 
Approach him with a laugh, and he by no means 
responds at once in kind. No, no, indeed. 
First he looks you steadily in the eye, and ap- 
pai'ently considers whether or not there is any- 
thing to laugh at — whether this smile which 
you bring to him is simpl}^ a stereotyped 
and unmeaning one, a sort of sheet-iron smile 
which you keep regularly on hand for all babies, 
or a good square smile, bearing a deeper sig- 
nificance. If the scioitiny be satisfactory, he gives 
a pleasant look and an approving nod, perhaps 
adding a few remarks intended to be reassuring 
and complimentary, but if not, he turns his head 
away and takes no further notice of you. Life 
is too brief, he thinks, to throw much of it away 
on those who smile because they can think of 



My Vacation. 155 

nothing else to do, and, young though he is, he 
has no time to waste on those who do not really 
love him. I have already hinted that he is wag- 
gishly inclined. Often, when you hold out your 
arms to him, he will extend his in return, but 
approach to take him, and he turns his head cun- 
ningly away, laying it over his nurse's shoulder 
with a quiet chuckle as though to say, " Not for 
Jonathan ! " 

I do not know that ours is a pretty baby, 
but no one has yet had the temerity to say, in 
the presence of either father or mother, that he 
is not. It is certain that he has lovely blue 
eyes and a delicate complexion, and these 
go a great way, you know, in determining good 
looks. His hair, what there is of it, is of a nice 
color, and shows a tendency to curl ; but we take 
no special credit to ourselves on that head as 
yet, and when photographed we clap a lace wig 
on him. For one so young, he is certainly very 
bald. As for teeth, they, like his troubles, are 
yet to come. How would he look with a full 
upper and lower set, in the last style of modern 
art (like the ever-new set in a dentist's show win- 



156 My Vacation. 

clows), I wonder ? His figure is fine, though limp ; 
but of late his backbone has stiffened up so 
that he can sit on the floor without every minute 
lurching forward on his nose. This tumbling 
over was long a great grief to him, and I thought 
of ballasting him heavily below the waist like the 
toy boys you buy at stores, so that no matter how 
often he lost his balance, he'd at once regain an 
upright position without trouble to himself or 
others. If his nose is a little flat now, it is be- 
cause of these repeated tumbles, but there is no 
question that in the fullness of time he will 
come to have a fine Roman beak like his 
mother's. And one thing is certain : whether hand- 
some or not, he is good ; and in this and his bald- 
ness the resemblance between myself and son, 
so often remarked upon, is mainly to be found, 
I fancy. Certainly the ladies of the neighbor- 
hood are fonder of him than they are of me, and 
send in so frequently to borrow him that I am 
ometimes tempted to send back a polite request 
that they will get babies of their own. The 
idea of sending in to borrow a baby as they 
w^ould a churn or a frying-pan ! 



My Vacation. 157 

The only grief that has thus far come upon 
Jonathan Edwards was early one -morning. It 
was very careless of the nurse. She had repeat- 
edly been cautioned about lying down with the 
baby in her arms ; for that both had a talent for 
falling asleep we knew, and that Jonathan 
would be handy at rolling we inferred. Sure 
enough, after disturbing us all by ordering one 
of his early breakfasts on this particular morn- 
ing, quiet had just settled down on the house- 
hold like a blanket, when there came a most 
dreadful yell from the adjoining room, and, rush- 
ing in, we found Jonathan flat on his nose. 
(Somehow he always strikes square on his nose.) 
It was bleeding. Poor boy ! how grieved he was ; 
it was the only time that hurt, — out-and-out 
physical pain, — had come to him, and he didn't 
understand it. He didn't like it, either. 

I took him up tenderly in my arms, but he 
would not be pacified ; aside from the hurt, I 
think he was indignant. And his nurse, poor 
Ellen, took on too, screaming and tearing out 
her hair by the roots, with, " Musha ! I've 
murthered me cheild ! " My soothing assurance 



158 My Vacation. 

that I would murder her as soon as I could 
conveniently lay the baby down, did not seem to 
calm her somehow, and a terrible disturbance of 
the milk was threatened. But when Dr. Cook 
came, he said no bones were broken, neither was 
there concussion of the brain to be feared; 'twas 
only a concussion of the nose. As for Jonathan 
Edwards, when taken in arms for examination, 
he ceased crying at once, and seized the doctor 
by the beard with both hands ; t^ien he made a 
dive for the gold spectacles. And when nose 
was mentioned, he set up a crow as though he 
knew all about it and approved of the diag- 
nosis. His lurches on the floor were not lost 
upon him. On the whole, it was a very good 
deliverance from very bad fears ; and after 
thanking good Doctor Cook, we issued a bulle- 
tin stating the extent of the injuiy ; every one 
went back to bed, the cook returned to the 
kitchen, and so quiet once more reigned on 
Cook's Point. 

His beauty was not at all impaired by the 
accident. Baby's noses are made of india- 
rubber, apparently, and regain their shape with 



Afy Vacation. 159 

wonderful facility after being flattened. That 
you may see this, and, further, that you may see 
that what I say of Jonathan Edwards all 
through has a foundation in truth — that my 
pen-sketch is by no means a fancy one — I inclose 
his photograph. It may not be easy to reproduce 
it, but perhaps you can print a diagram of him — 
give the front and rear elevation, if not a sectional 
view. I have pictures to spare, for when there's 
nothing else to do, his mother sends him down 
town to be photographed. And if any would 
like a photograph of the boy, I would not object 
to turning an honest penny by supplying the 
demand, at a trifling advance merely, on first 
cost. 



i6o My Vacation, 



THE CAREER OF A CALIFORNIAN. 

FROM POVERTY TO POWER AMBITION AND ITS 

LESSONS SUMPTUOUS LIVING AND MARVELLOUS 

HOSPITALITY THE BANK THAT AFTER ALL 

WAS BUT AN INDIVIDUAL ENORMOUS ASPIRA- 
TIONS AND A TERRIBLE FALL. 

Cook's Point, Aug. 29. 
ROM mate of a Mississippi steamboat 
to head of one of the largest banking 
institutions in the world — undoubtediy 
the largest in this Western half of the world — 
seems a transformation dazzling and dram- 
atic. But it was a gradual one. In this in- 
stance, as in all others, it was no royal road that 
led to position and power. The climb was 
a hard one and had its different stages and 
halting-places; by no single bound was the height 
reached. Different indeed the fall. Yesterday, 
as it were, looking up, men wondered ; to-day, 




My Vacation. i6i 

looking down, they stand aghast. For one of 
the adventurous who then stood with feet seem- 
ingly firm planted high up the hill, which so many 
aspire to climb, now lies a crushed and shadeless 
mass at our feet. Less far indeed from top to bot- 
tom than from bottom to top ; for the one journey 
years are necessary, for the other a single minute 
suffices. It is very hard at just this point to refrain 
from preaching. But I will. The corpse found 
floating and drifting about the bay of San Fran- 
cisco has been dragged ashore, and if you can 
look upon it without learning something, all that 
the ghastly lesson conveys, indeed, a sermon 
would but be thrown away. 

William C. Ralston was the most restless and 
ambitious man I ever knew, and among restless 
and ambitious men my lot has principally fallen. 
As already hinted, his beginning was an obscure 
one. The precise details of his early life I do 
not remember, and will not endeavor to repeat, 
though I have had them from his own lips. But 
unless I much mistake, the banks of the Missis- 
sippi River were the only banks with which he 
had to do prior to emigrating to California in the 



II 



1 62 My Vacation. 

early gold days, and with these he had to do in 
the capacity of mate — some say deck-hand only — 
of a stern-wheel steamboat. To the comparative 
lowness of this starting-point, may we not attrib- 
ute that aspiring ambition which led to a fall? 
For you may have noticed that men born to a 
middle station in life plod along in it contentedly^ 
while those born in the lower level are scarce 
ever satisfied till they have climbed to the top of 
the social shaft. It does not follow exactly that 
those who start on the top round of the ladder are 
uneasy till they have climbed to the bottom, but it 
is very frequently the case. In this matter socie- 
ty is like the ocean, that which breaks loose from 
the bottom struggles up, and good ships which 
are launched and expected to swim on the sur- 
face go down if accident knocks a hole in 
them. 

Litde by little, Mr. Ralston got on. But the 
more he got on the longer were his strides. 
Most men set for themselves a point in life at 
which to rest when reached — at least they say 
they will rest at it : he never did. The only 
point wdiere he proposed to stop w^as when he had 



My Vacation. 163 

gotten as far as he could go, and this programme 
carried with it very few limitations as you can well 
imagine. Nothing short of all could satisfy the 
man. As in business, so with pleasure. For 
pleasure in itself he did not really care—indeed, 
I much doubt if he knew what it was. Lavish 
surroundings contributed little to his happiness, 
but he maintained the establishment of a prince. 
How" it was afterward, when railroads came to be 
built, I do not know, but in the day of my knowl- 
edge he was whirled to his country seat by relays 
of horses at the close of each day's business 
with all the speed and more of style than any 
two railroads could furnish. For horses, as 
horses, he cared very little, and about horses, as 
horses, he knew less ;but his stables were full of 
the most famous of goers. For wine, he had no 
inordinate fondness, I think, but down in his cel- 
lars you found brands which are commonly sup- 
posed to be reserved for the tables of royalty 
alone. His " hospitality " was marvellous ; but I 
do not know that any can say he was hos- 
pitable—for there was so much of it. Go to him 
with a letter of introduction— or without one, if 



164 -My Vacation. 

you happened to be an eminent editor, prize- 
fighter, lawyer, theologian, horse-thief, or a mem- 
ber of any one of the learned professions — and 
he insisted upon you making his house your home 
while you stayed, furnishing you with horses, 
steamboats, palace cars, or anything else you 
wanted to go with when you went. Invited down 
to his country-seat, you were at liberty to remain 
as long as you pleased, and perhaps you would 
not see your host more than once during your 
visit. The whole ranche and all it contained 
were at your disposal, however, and if a man 
could not enjoy himself with such freedom of 
range as this, the fault surely could be but his 
own. I have heard it said that the Bank of Cal- 
ifornia allowed him $25,000 a year wherewith to 
entertain Eastern visitors. Again, I have heard 
it stated that no limit was fixed, but that a carte 
blanche was given him to entertain valuable vis- 
itors as he pleased, and that at the end of the 
year he drew for the total expense incurred. If 
you ask me which of these stories I believe, I re- 
ply, without the least hesitation. Neither ! 

You have heard of the Bank of California, of 



My Vacation. 165 

which William C. Ralston was President at the 
time of his death, perhaps. Do yon know what 
it was ? No ? Well, the Bank of California was 
William C. Ralston. At the time of its organi- 
zation he was cashier only, it is true, but if you 
suppose that the President of a bank is anything 
less or is meant to be anything more than a respec- 
table figure-head, you know less about banks in 
general, and New-York banks in particular, than 
one would suppose possible in this age of gener- 
al enlightenment. As cashier, William C. Ralston 
ran the bank. As President he ran the bank. 
The bank he always was, and when the bank no 
longer was, he died — by suicide, some say, nat- 
urally enough, say I. Here you have the whole 
history of the bank in a nut shell. As for the di- 
rectors or trustees, all, they were good men and 
rich men undoubtedly ; and as such they, in com- 
mon with other stockholders, had an immediate 
opportunity of performing the first real duties 
which the honorable situation of stockholder or 
director makes imperative, viz., paying in a hand- 
some assessment to make their stock good. Thus 
the end crowns the work, and perhaps some day 
the day of dummies will be done. 



1 66 My Vacation. 

It may be complained that I have written too 
much about an individual and too little about an 
institution. But it was necessary to tell what the 
one was in order to explain the workings of the 
other. The bank of California was restless and 
ambitious, in direct response to the characteristic 
of its founder. The two pulses beat together. 
As a synonym for strength, its name on the Paci- 
fic coast long ranked next to that of the Bank of 
England. As a power the Bank of England 
was but a country schoolmaster in comparison 
with this most despotic Caliph — locally con- 
sidered, I mean. The Bank of California, 
either controlled, or meant ultimately to gain the 
control, of everything on the Coast. It was at 
any time ready to contract to take all the quick- 
silver, all the cattle, or a,ll the wool that the coun- 
try produced. A small slice of a valuable mine 
would not be touched at any price. But go to it 
with a controlling interest to dispose of, and you 
could name your own terms — that is to say, if Wil- 
liam C. Ralston wanted it. Anything that he 
wanted from a Congregational church to a moun- 
tain in the uttermost wilderness of Nevada, the 



My Vacation. 167 

Bank of California was willing to buy or take on 
deposit. It was a power in politics, a mighty 
engine in elections, a Colossus bestriding the 
State as well as the mastodon of the municipality 
of San Francisco : admittedly it controlled the 
coast, but still its restless arms were outreached 
for further conquest. 

Again I find it very hard to refrain from moraliz- 
ing. But if you deem such a monopoly as the 
Bank of California actually was (to say nothing of 
what it threatened to become) detrimental to the 
morals of a community, injurious in the highest 
degree to the welfare of a State, I'll not quarrel 
with you. If, on the contrary, you think such a 
monopoly has ever reared its head, or gone on 
breathing for any comfortable length of time, with 
out getting bowled down at the good Lord's ear- 
liest leisure, you're less devout than I, and we'll 
say nothing more about it, for fear of getting into 
a theological disputation — a sort of cudgel play 
that should be avoided in August. 

It never seemed to me that William C. Ralston 
did business for the purpose of making money 
exactly. He did business mainly for the sake of 



1 68 My Vacation. 

doing business, and this, to my thinking, is not 
the legitimate end of business doing. If the ex- 
citement alone is wanted, why not gamble ? Why 
do business unless you do it with a money success 
in view? If it's to come to the same thing at 
last, I, for one, would lie around in the 
easy attitude of one who invites his soul to 
loaf and be merry, rather than seize the 
greasy reins of commerce in my mad grasp. Soon- 
er far would I go charioteering through the world 
in an ox-cart than driving a random tandem. So 
with pleasure. If there's no fun in it, I dont want 
any. The man who doesn't like drinking for its 
own sake is a fool to get drunk, and why should 
one who's not fond of riding take the risk of a 
broken neck, simply because his next door neigh- 
bor jogs round on horseback .? 

William C. Ralston did not care enough about 
money to keep it after it was made. What wedded 
him to his w^ork was the excitement attendant 
upon making immense trades and moving mil- 
lions. As for keeping the money hemade,that never 
entered his mind — he scattered it broadcast on 
every side. It was as though a man should pump 



My Vacation. 169 

away for dear life and all the while have nothing 
but a bottomless vessel to hold his Dumpings — ■ 
yes, as though one should pump away with clang 
and noise, but have never a valve in his pump. 
Men do this sometimes, for exercise. But exercise 
is not work. One must have a serious purpose 
in view, or even the swinging of dumb-bells avails 
not. And if I had not resolutely resolved to re- 
frain from pointing a moral, I would say, right 
here, that the want of a worthy purpose is just the 
hole in which William C. Ralston and his bank 
went under. But I prefer that each reader should 
apply the great ethical blister, which I have so 
generously spread, for himself. Place it where it 
will do the most good, please ! 

William C. Ralston was not a bad man in real- 
ity. True, he did very many things which are 
commonly esteemed bad ; but I do not think that 
he put much heart into them. There was little of 
earnestness or vim about any of his dissipations ; 
seeing another person do a thing he thought it 
was the thing to do, and there must be fun in it 
He never wanted t o be counted out on any thing. 
In a very similar way he did much good. So did 



170 My Vacation. 

the Bank of California. It encouraged many 
praiseworthy enterprises, developed many valua- 
ble industries, lent its shoulder frequently to public 
improvements, where a banking institution con- 
ducted on jDrudent principles would have not lent 
a finger. On one occasion it even lent money to 
me — is there need to say more ? Then again the 
Bank of California gave aid to some schemes 
most outrageously corrupt. But nature in her 
own way turns most malfeasances to good. I do 
not know, however, that in such cases a credit 
mark goes down in the book to the account of 
individual or instituton, unless good was in- 
tended. 

As for the financial vista which this great 
fiasco illuminates most forcibly, I'll say nothing. 
With my views about the overtrading that not 
this country alone but the whole world as well 
have been given over to you are already familiar. 
Settling day is at hand and then you'll hear my 
voice. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and a 
few other overloaded corporations — whose wheels 
are even now whirling like mad under a pressure 
of super-heated steam and with never a balance 



My Vacation. 171 

wheel to govern them, — fly into flinders and won- 
dering men are looking round among the ruins 
for the fragments of Tom Scott, then perhaps 
I'll pop my head out from behind a freight 
car and shout ; Didn't I tell you so ? 

This may all seem matter of a nature too tran- 
sitory, a record of an event too local, to warrant 
preservation in a book. But the man of whom 
I have written was a type, — the history of the 
dead is the story of the living, and I here record 
it permanent in example and warning. 



172 My Vacation, 




THE CONFESSIONS OF A REFORMED 
PLANCHETTIST. 

AM not wicked ; at the worst I am but 

weak. 
Never have I deceived others for my 
own profit, nor lent myself, even constructively, 
to a fraud, however specious, which by any perad- 
venture might turn to my material account. 
The only cheats which I remember to have 
practiced, previous to Planchettism, were done 
for amusement's sake alone, when friends insist- 
ed on being tricked, and refused to be comfort- 
ed if they were not. Under this category of in- 
nocent impostures I place the swallowing of a 
carving-knife, and drawing it forth thereafter 
with much flourish from your left ear ; putting a 
penny on the crown of your head and driving it 
by a smart blow down and through your body 
into one of your boots ; pretending to be pleased 
v/ith a story or a casual caller when really you 



My Vacation. 173 

are bored ; and the like. In similar manner 
each of us must confess to have told great lies ; 
for the delectation of little children, for instance, 
inventing tales of giants and good men that nev- 
er lived ; building up on such chimerical found- 
ations gorgeous superstructures of heroism and 
happiness which never had place in this world. 
There you have an inkling of my shortest com- 
ings and most flagrant tergiversations until the 
time that I fledged out as a Planchettist. 

I thus premise because I have no desire to 
dispute the bad pre-eminence of wickedness with 
any of my fellow-creatures, no ambition to be 
made the objective point of a special mission. 
Fully conscious of the obliquity to which I weak- 
ly became committed, I am willing to atone, so 
far as in me lies, by a frank free and confession. 

" How did I become a Planchettist ? " How 
does a man become committed to any evil ca- 
reer? Insensibly and by degrees, of course. 

No man clothes himself at once with the full 
measure of guilt, as he would put on a ready- 
made garment. There are gentle gradations in 
all iniquity. Is it probable that Mr. Tupper 



174 -^^y Vacation. 

contemplated volumes when he first began to 
platitudinize, or that Nero had the conflagration 
of Rome in his mind's eye when he laid in a 
Cremona and learned to fiddle ? Certainly when 
first I put confiding and caressing hands on the 
smooth and shining back of Planchette, I had 
no idea of the dark path of deception on which 
that three-legged monster would drag me, of the 
depth of turpitude into which I thereby pledged 
myself to plunge. 

But perhaps if I begin at the beginning I shall 
the sooner get through. Therefore let me take 
up the thread of events, and follow it out to its 
natural end in crime and confusion. 

Having occasion for some alterations in the 
model of that great Adding Machine whereof 
you may have heard, I betook myself to the 
shop of a maker of mathematical instruments 
(and tinker generally) ; who had already failed to 
work out several brilliant ideas of mine — a 
fellow possessed of much talent in that way. 

" Fritz," quoth I, " I want these wheels cut 
down to half their present size and renumbered ; 
that spring taken out, shortened, and given a 



My Vacation. 175 

different bearing ; and the discs, or outer plates, 
and wood-work, silvered, gilded, and varnished. 
I'm in a hurry, and must have it in an hour." 

I always am in a hurry in cases of the kind? 
for it is the height of indiscretion to confess to 
the ingenious mechanic that no special dispatch 
is required, permitting him to do things " in his 
own time." What is " time" to him may be eter- 
nity to you. 

" Not in a veek," he made answer. 

This was unexpected. Usually this nimble 
artisan was not over driven with work, and the 
smallest jobs were thankfully received. Now he 
was full of business, independent, and of course 
disposed to be curt and rather impertinent. A 
week was out of the qeustion. What would ac- 
countants do in tlie meanwhile ? So I replied 
that such a delay was not to be thought of — day 
books and ledgers were not to be trifled with — 
and that I should be compelled to trust myself 
and it to the hands of some workman, less skil- 
ful, perhaps, but more mindful of the interest of 
early benefactors. (It is always well to take high 
moral ground on such occasions). But I had 



176 My Vacation. 

the curiosity to ask what he was making that 
busied him so. 

" Pentagraph wheels," he said. 

Well, I left his shop and went on a voyage of 
discovery among artificers in brass and workers 
in wood ; but with the most indifferent success. 
Very few could comprehend the machine at all, 
to the beautiful intricacies of its wheels and re- 
volving discs most of them were blind as owls 
to the sun. One to whom I applied said he did 
nothing in the circular-saw business ; another in- 
formed me that I'd find a maker and mender of 
music-boxes somewhere in Maiden Lane. The 
few who could make head or tail of the machine 
mentioned in the outset that a cash deposit on 
work was always expected of strangers, and this 
of course cut off further conversation. So at the 
end of the week I again sought Fritz. 

But he now could not work me the desired al- 
terations inside of a month ; he was still making 
pentagraph wheels. 

It seemed strange to me there should be so 
sudden a demand for such wheels and I asked 
what they were for. 



3fy Vacation. 177 

"To put on a writing-machine," he saidj 
" something newly invented." 

All, thought I, a writing-machine ; here, then, 
is an invention nearly as important as mine, and 
more adapted, perhaps, to the popular need. 
Horace Greeley will want one ; Sam Bowles 
must be supplied ; and I called to mind a host 
of other eminent caligraphists whose pleasure in 
the invention would only be equalled by that of 
the miserable creatures who were obliged to read 
their manuscripts. I inquired where the machines 
were to be seen, and very soon thereafter was 
on my way to the store of a dealer in stationery, 
writing-desks, and other portable property. 

On entering I inqured for a writing-machine. 

" A what, Sir ? " 

I explained, and gave my authority for suppos- 
ing there was such a thing extant and there for 
sale. 

"Oh, Planchette; yes, yes. Sir. Please step 
this way ;" and I was ushered to the back part 
of the store. 

There I found Planchette lying in wait foi 

whom he might devour. He was a browm-look- 
12 



178 My Vacation. 

ing little familiar, made of wood, and mounted 
on two pentagraph wheels, a lead-pencil forming 
his third leg ; he looked as if he might bite, and 
had an uncanny air about him generally. Inquir- 
ing, What is this mystery ? I was informed that 
on two persons placing their hands upon the fel- 
low's back, and a question being asked, he would 
soon begin to wriggle about (like a crab in the 
sand), and write an intelligible if not an intelli- 
gent answer with his plumbaginous tail. 

In response to my look of incredulity came an 
nvitation to put my hand on with the young man 
of the store. I did so, and asked the time of 
day. 

" Five minutes past four," was written. This, 
however, did not surprise me, as there was a 
clock on the wall, visible to my fellow-operator 
as well as to Planchette. 

Other persons — mostly ladies — came in to jDur- 
chase Planchettes. There was an immense rush 
for them, and I understood how the whole town 
came to be making pentagraph wheels. While 
they were being waited on I amused myself by 
reading a descriptive pamphlet, republished from 



My Vacation. 179 

an article in some English periodical. This re- 
lated so many marvels of the thing that my curi- 
osity became excited to experiment with one at my 
leisure : but still so incredulous was I of the 
powers imputed to it that I scarcely felt like pur- 
chasing one out and out. However, a comprom- 
ise was finally reached by my making a deposit 
of the price, with the proviso that if it failed to 
write things my money should be retuned. 

A label on Planchette's belly set forth the 
most favorable conditions of getting its back up 
for the work. It was advised that the operators 
be " opposite sexes, if possible, and of different 
complexions." Not deeming it impossible to 
find an opposite in sex to aid in the investiga- 
tions, I started off with Planchette under my coat. 
I must confess that I was not altogether at my 
ease while carrying him thus, for if all the pam- 
phlet set forth were true, there certainly was 
something impish, if not demoniacal, about the 
fellow. I fancied that he squirmed in my em- 
brace, and I knew not but that in another mo- 
ment he might be tearing with teeth and claws 
at my vitals. I thought of the Spartan boy and 



i8o My Vacation. 

his fox. But I bore him bravely on, and once 
at home took care to guard against his escape 
or any untoward demonstration by locking him 
securely into an oaken clothes-press. 

That evening I went out to call, taking Plan- 
chette with me. It was a lady exactly my op- 
posite, not only in complexion but (I regret to 
say) in disposition, whom we went to see ; and I 
said to myself that now, if ever, some remarkably 
quick stepping would be done by this fantas- 
tic courser. The lady at first thought I had 
brought her a new-fangled cribbage-board ; but 
I explained, and with some fear and tremb- 
ling (she had read the pamphlet meanwhile) we 
placed our hands as directed, and waited events. 
For a full hour we sat, but beyond a few false 
starts and convulsive wriggles, caused by our 
nervous tremors, there was no movement on its 
part. Questions the easiest of solution we ask- 
ed, but no answer came. Did it rain? (it was 
r lining); what time was it ? (there stood the 
clock) : we asked it every thing, except, perhaps, 
would saltpetre explode ; but it stood still, obstin- 
ate as a mule. Others came in presently — of op- 



My Vacation. i8i 

posite sexes and complexions — and they tried 
their hands, with equal powerlessness to produce 
any satisfactory result. In short, owing to the 
refractory behavior of Planchette, we spent a 
very stupid evening, staring and blinking into 
each other's eyes over his back ; and when I 
packed him off home that evening it was with a 
full resolve never again to introduce him into 
good society. 

Next morning on my way down town I dropped 
in at the Planchette depot, and reported the fail- 
ure of my experiment, by way of preparing the 
proprietor to receive an addition of one to his 
stock. That gentleman, however, assured me 
that I would yet find some one for whom Plan- 
chette would write : that he would return the 
money (and he did, there and then), but he really 
wished I would keep the board, and see what 
came of it. This was fair enough, no extraordi- 
nary risk was involved, and I accepted the 
terms. 

That evening I was out visiting again, and 
happened to mention Planchette. The ladies 
present became so much interested (in what the 



/ 



1 82 My VacatioJt. 

pamphlet said of him : I denounced him un- 
measuredly), and expressed so much faith in his 
good behavior in proper hands, that I sent for 
him to be brought into the presences, wilhng to 
give him a chance of redeeming his reputation. 

He was brought and planted on the table* 
with a large sheet of paper to make it easy for 
his feet. Scarcely had their hands touched him 
when off he started like a mud-turtle (of which 
he was the mild simulacrum) with a coal of fire on 
its back. He raced round like a quarter-horse, 
describing the most eccentric curves and angles, 
writing names, and occasionally lashing out with 
his legs as though he had just found them. Fresh 
from pasture, he evidently for the first time felt 
his oats. So comical was it all that for the life 
of me I could not forbear laughing, which rather 
provoked one of the ladies, who inclined to take 
the thing in quite a serious part. 

At first starting off it scribbled scriptural text 
glibly ; but when asked what influence moved it, 
wrote " Humbug." This flippant answer was 
attributed to the malign inspiration of my mirth, 
and I was soundly rated therefor ; but while the 



My Vacation. 183 

chiding was going on it got an idea of its own and 
wrote " Nonsense." There upon my attention was 
called to the fact that I was visibly reproved by 
some unseen disciplinarian, to which suggestion 
I replied that it was not quite clear to my mind 
that I was the person admonished, and counsel" 
led that the question be put to Planchette. 

Asked who was talking nonsense, the sensible 
board (or Faculty) at once wrote the name of the 
lady who was taking me to task. 

Asked who was the most nonsensical person in 
the room, it wrote the name of a little girl asleep 
in the adjoining apartment — who, however, so 
far from being sillier than any person in the 
room, would really have merite I being written 
down as the brightest of all, had she been pres- 
ent. Probably she was " picked upon " because 
absent and asleep. This trait and similar ones 
show conclusively that Planchette's is the femi- 
nine gender : but I treat it indifferently as mas- 
culine and neuter for convenience' sake. 

A note was brought me relative to the post, 
ponement of a little party which was on the tapis. 
I put it in my pocket. Planchette was asked 



184 -^y Vacation. 

what the gentleman, had in his pocket. The 
wretch wrote, " A love-letter," which necessitat- 
ed my reading the message aloud, in order to 
clear myself from a base and unworthy suspi- 
cion. 

And so on the evening through, by no accident 
hitting the truth in any answer, until, when 
breaking-up time came, the question was asked ; 
" Now, Planchette, after all this frippery, what 
serious, earnest message have you for us to re- 
tire on } " 

" Do not believe in this," it wrote, smoothly 
as could one of tliose chaps who hang round ho- 
tels doing your name in fine Italian characters 
on visiting-cards for a living. 

I was staggered in my disbelief — nay, more, 
I was all but convinced. The answers given, 
though wide of the truth, were in all cases the 
very replies which one would suppose the opera- 
tors would not write if they had their way about 
it. /was the one to be rapped over the knuckles 
and reprimanded for nonsense if " larks" was 
the game ; and " Don't believe in this" was 
scarcely the message that would be chosen to 



My Vacation. 185 

convince a skeptic — at least it so seemed at first 
thought. 

I didn't feel quite easy at having Planchette 
for a room-fellow that night. I started several 
times, expecting to find him scratching about 
and endeavoring to climb into bed with me. I 
would rather have taken up with a bug. 

Should a man share his bed with his board 
after making it a point all his life to never take 
the two together ? 

The mania spread, the air became full of 
Planchettes. Wherever you went a board was 
brought out as soon as the lamps were lit ; the 
soft blandishments of music gave place to its 
presence, and conversation ceased. The baleful 
dissipation became universal. Strangely enough, 
however, though the thing would write for others, 
it would not for the lady to whom I first intro- 
duced it and me. It seemed as though it owed 
me a grudge for taking it out in the rain 
on that occasion. With one or two of her acquaint- 
ance she would put her hands on, and it walked 
the table like a thing of life ; but for me it 
wouldn't stir a peg. Though we sat dumbly for 



1 86 My Vacation. 

hours, mutely, almost prayerfully, invoking the 
mesmeric influences, until our arms were near- 
ly paralyzed by the inaction, never a line would 
the pencil trace. This puzzled me, for it was my 
strong impression tJiat we had about as much 
snap and spirituality about us as most folks. 
As for me individually, if I put my hands on 
with another it would either not move at all, or 
else in a disgustingly feeble manner, suggestive 
of weak joints. At last I declined to make any 
further attempts (feeling rather mortified at my 
frequent failures, if the truth must be told). One 
evening, however, a distinguished Planchettist 
being present, under whose hands the board was 
galloping about like mad, I thought I saw a key 
to the situation. For experiment's sake I re- 
quested the lady who was seated with him to let 
me make one final trial. She assented, and gave 
me her place. The other party seemed not over- 
delighted at the change ( not unnatural), but made 
no objection. Planchette was dumb under the in- 
fliction for a moment, but at length began weak- 
ly to discourse. My hands are not as light as a 
lady's, and I was determined that if physical force 



My Vacation. 187 

were used I v/ould compel the exertion of suffi- 
cient to be visible. Before the first sentence was 
written I was satisfied — the thing had written its 
own sentence, in my mind, so far as any claim up- 
on the credulity of mankind was concerned. The 
working of the digital muscles was palpable, and 
it was plainly to be seen that, instead of en- 
deavoring to get away from under the operator's 
fingers, as would have been the case were the 
motion in the board, it simply followed their 
guidance, or took the line in which it was driv- 
en. Planchette stood revealed to me as a very 
tame monster after all. 

Theretofore in discussions with a few unbe- 
lievers of nay acquaintance, who scouted my cred- 
ulity in believing that any thing else than trick- 
ery underlaid the Planchettic cipher, I waxed 
quite wroth, and denounced them as idiots. Eve- 
ning after evening I had sat (like a bump on a 
log) while the fiery, untamed steed, manipulated 
by others, went careering on its three legs over 
realms of thought and reams of paper, furnish- 
ing a fund of amusement for whole house- 
holds. On those occasions I was not openly up- 



1 88 My Vacation. 

braided for my impotency, but I knew that 
secretly I was looked upon as a noodle of too 
fleshly and earthly a nature to evoke and control 
the subtler essences which abound in wood and 
such things, and the knowledge was not pleasent. 

Is it necessary for me to anticipate by declar- 
ing that the next sitting to which I was bid I 
suddenly developed stupendous powers, and 
stood revealed as the Planchettist of the Period ? 

It is now that my confessions properly begin, 
but the prelude was not uncalled for, insomuch 
as I wished to illustrate how a man is occasion- 
ally driven into crime in self-defense. 

My career from this time forth was an em- 
inently successful one. In my hands Planchette, 
when he failed to answer truthfully, told such 
outrageous lies that it was at once seen that 
some evil spirit was behind him. There were 
no half-statements, no hamstrung declarations 
concerning anything past, present, or to come; 
he hesitated at nothing. Sometimes, indeed, he 
would skate around and draw maps of unknown 
continents, but once started to write, and it was 
certain the questioner would get all and more 



Afy Vacation. 189 

than he wanted to know, and as for my fingers 
being seen to move — trust me for that. From 
Planchetting one might turn to pocket-picking 
easily, and with no other preliminary practice. 

We generally satisfied our audiences — Plan- 
chette and I. First I practiced on the friend of 
mine already mentioned ; when it became evi- 
dent that she, knowing my previous powerless- 
ness to move the board, received my sudden de- 
velopment with faith and did not suspect me, it 
seemed clear that no one else would and in the 
wickedness of my heart I went forth conquering 
and to conquer. 

Did I have no shame, no compunctions of con- 
science .? you will ask. No, not a compunction : 
once mounted on Planchette and one would gal- 
lop headlong whither a beggar on horseback is 
reputed to ride ; caring as little for who or what 
one rode over as a witch on her broomstick. 
Contact with him acted like the touch of an en- 
chanter's wand, transforming honest men into 
tricksters, and turning them loose on society 
prepared to practice, if need be, on their own 
mothers. 



190 My Vacation. 

You doubt the latter statement, but of that 



anon. 



I improved on the tactics of the general run of 
Planchetists. They were always eager to perform; 
I affected reluctance. They would decipher 
scrawls which no one else could read, making 
out a complete sentence where it was utterly im- 
possible to distinguish a single letter, and won- 
dering at persons' obtusity. I, on the contrary, 
was the last to unravel the communication, and 
insisted on Planchette's rewriting it even after 
all others were confident that they had the right 
interpretation. I discovered, too, that it was easy 
to write ujDside down, or from right to left, so 
that a looking-glass was necessary to enable one 
to read the message. In fact, I evidenced a 
capacity for guile which at this distance surprises 
me, and certainly the possession of any latent 
talent of the kind was before unsuspected in me 
by others. 

As an instance of how we did things — Plan- 
chette and I — one Sunday afternoon, at the house 
of a friend, the board was brought out. Would 
I put my hands on it, ? No, I had rather not, 



My Vacation. 191 

it took all the magnetism out of me, and the 
weather in itself was sufficiently prostrating. 
But there was no escape, and at last I reluctant- 
ly consented, a lady assisting. 

Addressing ourselves to the inhospitable board 
it forthwith began to circle about and gyrate as 
if possessed. Asked what power was present, 
it promptly wrote "the devil." 

" But has not Mr. Andrews" (a lawyer for 
whose edification the board was brought out) 
" any friends here .? " 

" Yes .? " 

" Who ! " 

a T V 

" Why are you a friend of Mr. Andrews ? " 

" Because he is one of mine." 

" Has he ever served you ? " 

"Yes?" 

" What in ? " 

" In law. " 

" Have you ever served him ? " > 

" Yes." 

" What in ? " 

" In law." 



192 My Vacation. 

" Were you at church this morning ? " 

" Yes." 

" At whose ? " 

" Mr. Frothingham's." 

" How did you hke him ? " 

" First-rate." 

" Has Mr. Andrews — no other friends here ? " 

" Yes." 

" Who ? " 

"Theodore." 

" King of Abyssinia ? " 

" No ; Parker." 

" Did he go to church this morning ? " 

"Ask him. I'm going away now." 

And the board went to skating again. As 
soon as it became comparatively composed the 
question was asked : 

" Did you go to church this morning, Mr. 
Parker .? " 

"Yes." 

"Whose?" 

"Mr. Frothingham's." 

" How did you hke him ? " 

"NDt altogether." 



My Vacation. 193 

" Wliat fault do you find with him ? What 
hint would you like to give for him to act upon ? " 

"He is too bold, too outspoken." 

" But you used to be pretty bold and out- 
spoken yourself, Mr. Parker. Why do you com- 
plain of him .? " 

" I'm wiser now." 

" Should not the truth be spoke openly and 
boldly t " 

" Not at all times, and not to all people." 

" To whom should the tiiith not be spoken ? " 

" The ignorant — the many." 

" What are you doing up there ? " 

" Improving." 

" Will you tell us how to improve here ? " 

'-' No ; I must go." 

" Where must you go ? " 

"To hell." 

" Wliat are you going there for ? '*' 

"To preach." 

" Do you always hold services there on Sun- 
days ? " 

" Of afternoons." 

" Where do you preach in the forenoon ? " 
^3 



194 -^y Vacation. 

''At Yarmouth." 

(The expert Planchettist will always have cer- 
tain stock words and phrases to fall back upon 
when hurried or puzzled. Thus, when asked 
who was writing, I found it alwa3^s safe to quote 
Beelzebub — he being fair game for everybody. 
When at a loss for an answer to a question, I 
wrote, " We never, never tell ; " and the name 
of a place being hurriedly required, gave them 
" Yarmouth," as about the unlikeliest town for 
any thing but a bloater to come from.) 

I reproduce these questions and answers mere- 
ly to show how absurd the latter seem on paper. 
But as written for the eager inquirers who con- 
ducted the investigation the answers were a suc- 
cess, evoking running comments of " How like 
Theodore Parker," etc. 

It is strange indeed, how accident will often 
come to the aid of imposition. As instance 
in point : One evening a lady, who was scarcely 
satisfied with the answers she had received, said 
she would like to apply another test, and request- 
ed that Planchette would write the woid she had 
then in her mind. 



My Vacation. 195 

With scarcely a moment's pause we dashed 
off " Sorosis." 

"Well, that is wonderful," she cried. "I 
didn't believe much in it before, but that is con- 
vincing ! " And it was rather a staggerer, if I 
do say it who shouldn't ; but there was nothing 
very wonderful about it, after all. Something 
had been said about that remarkable club a few 
moments before : and I observed that the lady 
knitted her brows as though the knotty word 
took hold of her sharply, and it occurred to me 
that her mind might be dwelling on it then. 

Another case in point — but an explanation 
first. My mother happened to be visiting in 
town ; she had heard of Planchette, and of my 
proficiency thereat, and was desirous of seeing 
it write. Now what was I to do ? I certainly 
did not wish to upset the dear old lady's pre- 
conceived notion of things, scatter her faith to 
the winds, to the detriment of Moses and the 
prophets, and turn her a drift pn a sea of spec- 
ulation as to the relations between mind and 
matter, with neither compass nor rudder; but, 
on the other hand, it wouldn't do to confess that 



196 My Vacation. 

I — her first-born and her best-beloved — wds a 
cheating juggler. So I temporized, and put the 
exhibition off. This was quite as bad, however \ 
she had come down to the city to see what was 
going on, and my backwardness laid me open to 
a charge of unkindness in thus hiding my spirit- 
ual candle under a metaphorical bushel. So one 
evening Planchette and I put in an appearance. 

My good mother planted her spectacles, the 
big-bowed ones ( when she mounts those she 
means business), and prepared to catechise. No 
theological abstractions did she propound, no 
trivial questions put she, but practical ones — 
concerning things about which she really wished 
to know, and by which her movements in a mea- 
sure were to be governed. A grand-daughter 
had appointed to meet her at an interior town 
during one of the summer months, and she in- 
quired whether the young lady would be there. 

A very large and distinct " No." 

" Why, Planchette, that can not be ; I have a 
letter from her in my pocket, and she promises 
to meet me in July." 

" She won't," reiterated Planchette, and re- 
fused all further explanation on that head. 



My Vacation. 197 

The next inqiiiiy was when a younger son 
would be on from the West. 

" On the 2 2d " was written. 

" He is coming on the 15th, I know, for he 
wrote me so. Will I go West with him ? " 

" No." 

" Well," said the old lady, as she wiped her 
spectacles and carefully put them away, " my 
opinion, Planchette, is that you are a great hum- 
bug. But we shall see." 

Sure enough we did see. Next day, if I re- 
member rightly, came a letter from the young 
lady regretting that she could not meet her 
grandmamma at the time and place proposed, 
and making an appointment for a meeting else- 
where later in the summer. My brother arrived 
on the 2 2d ; and the old lady did not return 
with him to Kansas. All came true as a book. 
But 'twas simply because of shrewd guessing. 
On general principles I assumed that — setting 
aside in this instance that feminine fidelity to 
engagements which has passed into a proverb — ■ 
a young lady enjoying the cool delights of a Can- 
adian borough would scarcely feel like travelling 



198 My Vacation. 

several hundred miles by rail to an unattractive 
village in the dog-days. I knew my brother had 
written that he would be East on the 15th. but 
as he was never less than a week behindhand I 
thought it safe to average him down to that and 
record it. As for the good old lady's travelling 
through Kansas with the Indian war-whoop 
sounding from its borders to our distant doors 
I argued that if she made herself party to such a 
pleasure-trip at her time of life she would display 
a want of sagacity incompatible with the fact of 
her being the mother of Yours Truly. 

But the case immediately in point, referred to 
as illustrating how accident singularly comes 
times to bolster up imposture, is this : After the 
family exhibition just mentioned, nothing would 
do but that Planchette and myself should per- 
form for the proselytism of an old gentleman 
over the way — a confirmed and avowed dis- 
believer in Planchettism, notwithstanding the 
stubborn facts she narrated. Hopeless as 
the task seemed, I undertook it with a deter- 
mination worthy of a better cause, and, with 
Planchette under my arm ( some on the boat 



My Vacatmi. 199 

thought I was carrying a patent hfe-preser- 
ver), we made the perilous passage to Brooklyn. 

On inquiring for Mr. Rawdon we were told 
he was up stairs, writing, but would be down 
presently. So Planchette and I passed the in- 
terim pleasantly in writing stupendous fictions 
for the children. (I carried no confederate 
with me ; all were gudgeons that came to my 
net j in all instances the assistant was innocent.) 
By-and-by Mr. Rawdon made his appearance, 
and taking his turn at questioning, inquired what 
he had been doing. We replied, " Writingletters." 

*' Wliat kind of letters ; to whom ? " 

Unable to hit any where near the truth, we 
set out to come the old dodge, and write a 
whopper, something monstrously and funnily (all 
circumstances considered) improbable. 

We wrote " Love-letters ; " plainly enough, it 
seemed to me. Our host bent over to look, and 
,we expected a snort of indignation at the bare- 
faced impudence of the answer. To our sur- 
prise, on the contrary, his face flushed, and he 
said, seriously, '•' Well, that is very strange, in 
deed ; it has written the name of my correspond- 



2 00 My Vacation. 

ent in Brazil, and I do not think any bod} pres- 
ent but myself knew it." 

Certainly I did not, nor do I to this day, but 
I simply said to the three-legged, Steady, old 
fellow, and thought what a good thing 'twas 
that a sweet little cherub sat up aloft to watch 
o'er the fate of Planchette ! Was there not con- 
clusive proof in this of its supernatural powers ? 
One of the beauties of the game, let me remark, 
was the fact that the chirography generally was so 
illegible that a large margin wasoffered for spec- 
ulation and the questioner, seeing some slight 
resemblance in what was written to the proper 
answer, took it for granted that it had been writ- 
ten, and was satisfied and surprised. 

When persons want to be humbugged it is 
veiy easy to please them. I remember one eve- 
ning Planchette was asked the name of the 
young lady with whom a young man around the 
board was in love. We started to write some- 
thing immediately, on the theory that those v/ho 
hesitate are lost ; but the big-fisted fellow who 
had hands on with me bore so hardly that we 
could make no headway at all, and beyond a 



My Vacation. 201 

few feeble kicks and struggles could not get 
without exciting unpleasant suspicions. The 
paper showed a cramped tracery which looked 
like the pattern of a lace collar quite as much as 
any thing else, but it was at once unanimously 
declared that the funny monster had drawn the 
profile of John's Dulcinea ! 

One of the strangest things about it all was that 
the operator after a while came to half believe 
in the honesty of the performance himself, get- 
ting really angry at having the genuineness 
of his messages questioned. Several times have 
I got up from the table in an indignation which 
was by no means altogether feigned, on being 
suspected or too closely pressed with questions 
as to my agency in the matter of writing. I had 
a way, however, of making the seat of the scorn- 
ful so warm for him that he did not care to oc- 
cupy it long, and rarely gibed a second time. 
'Tis mournful, however, when one becomes in- 
sensible to his own wickdness, and assumes an 
air of injured innocence when good missionaries 
in gros grain and watered silks, remonstrate 
with him. What the end would have been, where 



202 My Vacation. 

I would have eventually brought up, had I not 
been arrested in my evil career, I do not know, 
and can hardly bear to contemplate. I might 
now be a long-haired spiritualist, coaxing weak 
raps out of my shuddering knee-pans, or throw- 
ing tables, chairs, and spittoons about the room 
in the name of loved ones " not lost, but gone 
before." 

It was the frequent necessity of practicing 
upon near and dear friends that first aroused my 
slumbering conscience and prompted me to re- 
formation. My good mother, for instance, was 
so pleased with Planchette that she requested 
me to buy her one, that she might have it ever 
ready to her elbow as guide, counsellor, and 
friend. From that dilemma, though, I extricat- 
ed myself rather ingeniously by leading her to 
ask what or who moved the board, and writing 
in answer, in big, staring letters, " The Devil ! " 

'' Why the wicked thing ! I declare ! Take 
it away, Charles ! " and she raised her hands be- 
fore her face to shut out the sight of so hateful a 
monster. Never afterward did she want a Plan- 
chette, nor could I persuade her to consult it 



My Vacation. 203 

even in secret. " To think of its swearing ! " 
she said. 

But there were others less timorous ; one lady 
in particular, a valued friend of mine, who in 
early life had lost a dear sister. This lady insis- 
ted on asking serious questions, and endeavoring 
to penetrate the veil between the seen and the 
unseen Vvforld. She wished some communication 
from the dead. It was in vain that I sought to 
turn the tide of investigation by writing the most 
absurd things, and announcing the presence and 
readiness to be questioned of Belial, Brown or 
Belisarius. With a. persistency not to be baffled 
she would return to the original inquiry, blaming 
my light behavior and frivolous interpolations 
for the mocking character of the manifestations. 
As there seemed no way out of it, and I secretly 
felt somewhat provoked that so clever a lady 
should insist on being bamboozled, I one even- 
ing determined to gratify her,and the following is 
a near reproduction of the Planchetting — near 
enough at least, to give an idea of the tenor 
of the whole : 

" Will not Henrietta communicate with me ? " 



204 My Vacation. 


"I am here!" 


" Why did you never come before ? " 


" Because of the presence of others." 


" What had their presence to do with it ? " 


" I wished to see you alone." 


"Ah, now we have it" (to me); "this is real 


good. Be serious, please and don't laugh and 


cut up ; if you do we shall not get any more sen- 


sible answers." (To Planchette :) " Can you not 


visit me?" 


"I am with you often." 


" When ? " 


" Always. Every where."- 


" When is your presence most felt ? ** 


" In dreams." 


" What are dreams ? " 


" Voices and echoes." 


" Whose voices and echoes ? " 


" No one's." 


" No one's ? that is a strange answer." 



I suggested that perhaps the question was not 
rightly put ; that there was no reason to assume 
that persons were meant. So the question was 
amended : 



My Vacation. 205 

" Voices and echoes of what ? " 

" Every thing in nature." 

(I rather pride myself on that ; it was pretty, 
and I question whether many mediums could im. 
prove on it with as little practice as I had.) 

And so the evening passed — a little to my 
amusement, but more to my sorrow when I came 
to think it over. All manner of ghostly things 
were inquired into, and there I sat writing down 
the first vague, mystical answer which came into 
my head. And speedy punishment followed, for 
thereafter I was kept at the Planchette board, 
like the musical young woman of the season at a 
piano, whole evenings through. The fame of 
me went abroad into the land, and I was invited j 

out, with a postscript requesting me to bring my j 

Planchette, just as some young men are asked to | 

dine and come with their horns and flutes. There 
was an end of all conversation or any of the old 
time amusements ; no more " slight flitration by | 

the light of a chandelier ; " I had to seat myself ! 

and ride the three-legged till midnight, and then 
home to a night-mare. This was in itself almost j 

enough to tempt me to confession and a refor- ! 



2o6 My Vacation. 

mation, but the main impelling power was the 
seriousness which the subject was assuming, and 
the sacredness (to me) of the things which it be- 
came necessary to trifle with. 

So one day I split the mahogany monster down 
the chine with a carving-knife, hacked his two 
halves into shavings, and gave them to the flames ; 
taking early occasion boldly to acknowledge my 
former wickedness and declare my resolve to re- 
form. More, I avowed my intention of writing 
out my confessions for the benefit of those yet 
in the bonds. 

Against this I was cautioned ; it being hinted 
to me that though / might be stupid and bad 
enough to practice such a senseless cheat, others 
were honest in their dealings with Planchette 
and that it really told some very marvellous things 
in cases where deception was impossible. For 
instance (I demanded an instance), a gentle- 
man in the northern part of New York, whose 
wife was travelling in Europe, asked Planchette 
(operated by two ladies, strangers to both him 
and his family) where his wife then was, and the 
name of the place was accurately written. 



My Vacation. 207 

I must confess that this shook me a little, for 
I knew the gentleman well, knew how incredu- 
lous he was in articles of faith more established 
than these latter-day miracles, and owned to my- 
self that if he was convinced, there might be 
something in Planchette despite my experience. 

It happened, however, that during my summer 
ramblings, soon after, I " towered " through that 
stretch of country, and spent some days in the 
vicinity. At a dinner one day I met a lady who 
chanced in the afternoon to become my partner 
at croquet. During the intervals of the game 
our conversation turned on Planchette, and I 
frankly confessed the role I had acted. She said 
she never had hands on Planchette but once, and 
that then she displayed a power which surprised 
herself and others. I fancied a slight smile on 
her face, and mentioned the astonishing revela- 
tion which had been described to me as occurring 
in that part of the country. The smile deepen- 
ed into a laugh as she remarked that she could 
tell me all about it, having been one of the per- 
formers. 

" Now tell me truly," said I, " sub rosa, you 



2o8 My Vacation. 

know — did or did you not manufacture that mes- 
sage yourself ? " 

She owned that she did, but declared that 
she sat until she was tired, and there wasn't much 
fun in that j so when Mr. Pomeroy asked where 
his wife was she wrote " Ems," just to see what 
they'd say. 

" But you were a stranger to her, and had never 
met him before t " 

"Yes." 

" Then how do you know she was at Ems ? " 

"Why he told me so himself, not five minutes 
before. I expected when I wrote it that he 
would say so at once, but he didn't remember 
telling me — on the contrary declaring that no one 
in the room but himself knew his wife's wherea- 
bouts ; so I thought I'd let it go." 

There you see wl^at a wonderful fellow Plan- 
chette is, when you come to sift him ! 

A friend not long since was telling me of his 
investigations. Planchette was manipulated by 
two young ladies, ex-officio professors of the art, 
and he had been asking questions, but got such 
silly and untrue answers that he was about to 



My Vacation. 209 

give up in disgust, convinced that they were 
making game of him. 

But a thought struck Iiim, and he resolved to 
give the thing one more trial. A copy of Le 
journal pour Rire^ wliich he had just received 
from Paris, lay on the table j the name of its ed- 
itor printed in very small letters at the bottom 
of the last page. 

" Here," said he, "tell me the name of the ed- 
itor of this journal." 

They wrote " Philippon." 

" By George ! " cried he, starting up, " there 
is something strange and almost unaccountable 
about that. I know that neither of these young 
ladies knew the name of the editor." 

" Oh yes, /did," exclaimed one of them, lean- 
ing breathlessly forward ; " I noticed it this 
morning, and wondered what they printed it way 
down there for." 

The ruling feminine passion asserted itself there. 
Rather than admit that there wa;s one thing she 
didn't know, she lost the convert she was endeavor- 
ing to make. Of course he saw nothing strange 
and unaccountable in the writing of the name 

(misspelt at that) in the light of her admission. 
14 



2IO My Vacation. 

Here is another instance of how easily persons 
are deceived when they have their mouths made 
up for the wonderful : 

A lady residing in New York was spending the 
summer at a mountain village in New Hampshire. 
Her husband undertook to send her all the news. 
When Elliot the painter died he telegraphed to 
her, '' Elliot — artist — dead." The dispatch came 
in the afternoon, and she did not make it public. 
■ That evening Planchette was on the table — all 
were nnmensely interested in that gay deceiver 
up there. A gentleman friend of Mr. Elliot, was 
present. Having an idea that she could surprise 
them a little, the lady, when her turn came to put 
hands on the board, wrote " Elliot," repeating the 
name several times. 

The gentleman wondered if any thing was 
wrong with his friend. When he last saw him 
the artist was in very poor health ; and at last he 
asked, " Has Mr. Elliot any thing to say to me ? " 

She then wrote the telegram she had received, 
word for word," Elliot — artist — dead ! " 

Of course all present were very much aston 
ished, and the gentlemen was not a little distres- 



Afv Vacation. 211 

ed — observing that certainly this was very strange , 
'twould be remarkable indeed if Elliot were re- 
ally dead ; in any event they would know to-mor- 
row. 

If astonished that evening, judge of the sen- 
sation next day, when news came through pub- 
lic channels that the artist was indeed deceased. 
Could any doubt be entertained of the mysterious 
power of Planchette after that ? 

It will be seen that this instance illustrates 
not only how easy it is to deceive people, but also 
how naturally the best disposed persons will drift 
into deception when such tempting opportunities 
present themselves. There is a pleasure in mys- 
tifying others, and when successfully accomplish- 
ed the delight is too dear to sacrifice it all by 
confessing how the effect was produced. But 
since I have knelt down at the confessional a good 
man}^ practiced Planchettists have joined me. 
And to briefly sum up for the benefit of all, 
when you can pat a terrapin on the back and get 
him to respond in Coptic with his tail, 'twill be 
time to persuade me that a block of wood can 
be " charged " sufficiently to write sentences. 



212 My Vacatioti. 

Mine was charged (it stands charged against me 
I believe, to this day), but it would only write 
when I wrote — and that is the truth of it. 

The above was written and printed some years 
ago. In the meantime Planchette has died the 
death and now there are none so poor as do him 
reverence : But at the time of publication I 
was reviled on all sides. Time has vindicated 
me, you see, for had Planchette been a thing 
of truth it would have remained a joy for- 
ever. And now I can state a fact not generally 
known perhaps. The Planchette mania was 
kindled by articles descriptive of the instrument 
republished from an English periodical. The 
author professed to have found one in use in a 
backwoods house, somewhere in Vermont, and 
gave a marvellous account of its performance. 
Bu the has since told a friend of mine that the 
article was purely imaginative throughout ; that 
he never saw, and indeed never heard of such a 
thing j 'twas fabricated out of his own head. 
As I have said he spoke of it as originating in 
the United States, and being in frequent use 



My Vacation. 213 

here. The truth of it is a Planchette was never 
known in this country or any where else until put 
on the market by a shrewd stationer who con- 
rived to manufacture it from the fanciful descrip- 
tion given by the Englishman. 




VACATION VERSES. 



My Vacation. 217 

AUTUMN LEAVES. 

The melancholy days have come, 

Which Mr. Bryant sings, 
Of wailing winds and naked woods, 

And other cheerful things. 

The robin from the glen has flown, 

And there Matilda J. 
Now roams in quest of autumn leaves 

To press and put away. 

Leaves in the sere, to school -girls dear, 

Are found where'er one looks. 
On hill, in vale, in wood, in field. 

But mostly in my books. 

If I take up my Unabridged 

Some curious word to scan. 
Rare leaves are sped of green and red. 

Or maybe black and tan. 

The book of books — my Bible — now 

I scarcely dare to touch, 
Lest it bring grief to some rare leaf — 

Ash, maple, oak, or such. 



2i8 My Vacation, 

And if upon the lounge I lie 

To read while I repose, 
Lo ! arid leaves in dusty sheaves 

Sift down upon my clothes. 

No more I swear in empty air, 

But straight invoke a broom, 
And soon St. Bridget comes and sweeps 

The rubbish from the room. 

O autumn leaves, rare autumn leaves. 

So lovely out-of-doors, 
Strew the wild wood (you could or should), 

But muss not Christian floors ! 

Too late I know a solemn truth 

I did suspect before : 
These leaves that autumn branches bear 

Are an autumnal bore. 



My Vacation, 219 



THE FISHER'S DAUGHTER. 

If you go to where the billow 
Tosses on its rocky pillow, 

In an ever restless pain; 
Where the sea in vain atoning 
Seemeth ever to be moaning 

Masses for the sailors slain ; 
You may see a little maiden 
Waiting, watching — weary laden — 

Watching all the live long day, 
If she haply may discover 
The light shallop of her lover, 

Like a bird upon the bay. 

Maiden, said I, fisher's daughter. 
Look no more upon the water, 

Prithee leave this mocking shore ; 
Knows't thou not that foam-bellss winging' 
Long time since were dirges ringing, 

For the one who comes no more ? 



22 o My Vacation. 

That thy sailor lad is sleeping 
In the water-kelpie's keeping, 

Leagues of ocean far away ; 
And that now if thou'ds't discover 
The light shallop of thy lover 

Thou must look beyond the bay ? 

But the maiden still is sitting, 
And she fancies in the flitting 

Of each bird upon the bay, 
In each sea-gull's pinion glancing. 
That she sees a white sail dancing — 

William on his homeward way. 

And you may not chide the maiden — 
Even I, with heart sad-laden. 

When the silent hours are nigh. 
Watch and wait, and fondly dreaming, 
All my fancies real seeming, 

Gaze upon the changing sky. 
It was through their golden portal 
That there went a lovely mortal — 

Angels know she did not die — 



My Vacation. 221 

Now I gaze, as night draws nigher, 
Where the billowing clouds swell higher, 
If I may not gain some tiding, 
See some silver shallop gliding 
Bearing tiding of the lost one — 
Comfort to the tempest-tost one — 
So I sit, thus fondly dreaming, 
All my fancies real seeming, 

Though the lips of reason say : 
Cease thy longing, luckless wisher, 
With the daughter of the fisher. 

Learn to look beyond the bay. 



222 My Vacation, 



SEA AND SHORE. 

The Sea is a stern old monarch, 

As cruel as monarch may be ; 
And navies they quail and pilots turn pale 

At the sway of his sceptre, my Sea. 

The earth is a sullen old baron, 

Morose as a baron may be ; 
And he watches all day from his rock-towers gray, 

For he feareth his cousin, the Sea. 
The sea is a cruel old monarch, 

The earth but a baron is he ; 
But of Christian souls more have been wrecked 
on shore 

Than ever were lost at sea. 



My Vacation, 223 

DAS MEERM^DCHEN. 



Oh Spring is blithe and Summer gay 
The Autumn golden and Winter gray. 

But the seasons come and the seasons go, 
All alike to me in their ebb and flow, 

Since the day I rode by the cheating sea. 
And one of its maidens had speech with me. 

Her skin was whiter than words can speak, 
The blush of the sea-shell lit her cheek ; 

Her lips had ripened in coral caves. 
Her eyes were blue as the deeper waves ; 

And her fair yellow hair fell fair and free 
In a shower of amber upon the sea. 

" Knight, gallant knight, a boon I pray : 
Give me to ride thy charger gray." 
" Oh, ships for the sea, but steeds for the shore, 
I'll give thee a boat with a golden oar ! " 

" Nay, gallant knight, no charm has the sea ; 
I would dwell on the green earth ever with thee." 

For her speech was fair as her face was fair ; 
Had she asked my soul it was hers, I swear. 



224 -^y Vacatioti. 

And I led her as light as sea-birds flit 
Where my steed stood champing his golden bit. 

The stirrups of silver were wrought in Spain ; 
My hand into hers put the silken rein. 

And that is the last, though the stars are old, 
I saw of my steed with his housings of gold. 

Was ever such folly in all the world wide ; 
But who would have thought a mermaid could ride. 

Or a maiden of earth, of air, or the wave, 
Should fly from her love with the wings he gave ? 

Faithless and loveless I walk by the shore, 
Never a maiden has speech with me more. 

But this brings not back my charger gray, 
Nor the false, false love who rode him away. 



The New Song. 225 

THE NEW SONG. 

The ship, the ship, the good old ship ! 
She's bound to make a jolly trip ; 
Spare captains two, and clergy three, 
I 'm sure the ship can't sink at sea. 

The Golden Gate ! the Golden Gate ! 
We're bound to reach it soon or late ; 
We'll stem the San Juan's rolling flood 
If they don't stick us in the mud. 

The transit route will not be cool — 
Crossing the Isthmus on a mule ; 
Go in a coach you who agree, 
But get a pacing mule for me. 

Some men have wives upon the spot — 
Some seem to have them who have not ; 
Deck promenades are very fine. 
But don't walk off with wife of mine. 

It is no harm, one kiss or more — 

But do it all behind the door ; 

The art of kissing seems to me 

Is not to let the others see ! 
10* 



226 The New Song. 

Lights out at ten ! lights out at ten ! 

If that's the law, we say amen ; 

The moon is left, and so is Mars, 

Thank Heaven they can't blow out the stars. 

Havana is a pretty place : 
But, Captain, in the name of grace, 
When all its lamps are plain in sight, 
Why don't you " tie up " for the night ? 

We stop to sound upon the sea, 
But of all sounds, the gong for me ; 
I don't like iron, but after all 
The oxide's better than the ball. 

The time draws near when we must part, 
So says the captain and the chart ; 
The opera troupe must troop on shore — 
Our Prima Donna '11 be no Moore. 

Perhaps the warmest heart may cool, 
Crossing the Isthmus on a mule; 
But when the voyage is safely through, 
Remember those that sung for you. 



At the Ball! 227 



AT THE BALL ! 



Is the ball very stupid, ma mignonne ? 

Paiivre petite^ you look ennuied to death — 
There is Bete — ft' est-ce pas ? in your eye, 

And a soup^on of yawn in your breath. 

Of a truth it is stupid, ma migno7ine ; 

The giver is wrinkled and gray ! 
The dances are older than Rome, 

And the dancers as well are passe. 

The wine that they give us, ma mignonne, 
Is but vin ordinaire, thin and poor, — 

It comes from a shop in Rue Jacques, 
And it cost but ten sous, I am sure. 

There's a ghost stirring somewhere, ma mignonne 
The lamps all burn dimly and low. 

And the music would do for La Morgue — 
Allons I not quite yet I won't go. 

Come sit on this fauteuil^ ma migjionne. 
And show me the make of that glove. 

It is/ouvin, I think now you're wicked ! 

Reste iranquille un moment, that's a love. 



2 28 At the Ball/ 

Who called the ball stupid, ma migno7iiie ? 

'Tis the best we have had for a week ; 
The dances are lively enough, 

And for music— /attends, please to speak ' 

One glass a ta sante, ma mignonne ; 

On the rim of my cup print a kiss — 
Never tell me again of Bordeaux ; 

There's no red wine in life like to this ! 

Who said lamps burned dimly, ma mignonne 't 
Look, the salon is lighter than day — 

It was queer, to find fault with the light ! 
Not enough ! there's too much, verite. 

At what time did ta matnan, ma mignonne, 
Suggest that the carriage should call ? 

Sainte Vierge ! it is striking the hour — 
Do you wish to go home from the ball ? 

THE END. 



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